


Two Kindred Hearts

by oREDACTEDo



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Awkward Crush, Building Relationship, Comedy, F/M, Includes some of Shane's Heart Events alongside original ones to keep it interesting, Named Reader, Patient Reader, Reader helps Shane recover, Reader is friends with practically everybody but Shane, Romance, Shyness, Slow Burn, and that sort of bothers them a bit, extroverted reader, farming, mentions of depression, trust building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22161577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oREDACTEDo/pseuds/oREDACTEDo
Summary: "Can't you take a hint? I don't want to be friends with you, so why do you keep talking to me?"Some eyes were staring with a curiosity that began to burn holes into the back of your head. You knew this was going to happen, yet somehow everything felt okay. The ball was rolling, and that was a good thing: half the battle. The bar gave off a hickory glow, the taste of the pale ale Gus gave you running bitter along your tongue, but turning citrus once it hit your throat. Even though Shane looked mad, something about his face made your bones feel like jello. Your sudden smile took him by surprise."I guess I can't help myself. There's just something about you I like a lot," you hummed thoughtfully, a finger tugging against your plush lip. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide, and Shane scoffed before turning his attention to his beer. He couldn't quite hide the blush on his face. Huh, that's strange, it was the first time he'd done anything besides glower at you.
Relationships: Shane (Stardew Valley)/Reader, Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 162





	1. Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> Playing Stardew Valley with the hubby and I really enjoy it.

**Year 2: Fall 3**

_Knock Knock Knock_

The gentle rapping of a morning visitor brought you from your dream. In it, you were back in Zuzu City, behind your little desk, where you could hear Carl in the cubicle behind you with his southern drawl on the phone with clientele, and Darla in the cubicle before you filing her nails instead of finalizing promotion ads. Needless to say, you’d consider it a nightmare.

The mattress beneath you was newer, not as new as your previous one, and placed upon an old rusty box spring. Your head was on the pillow, stuffed with soft poultry feathers. Little particles of dust glistened in the air like flurrying snow, but it was otherwise refreshing to breath in the cool air. A quick stretch and you felt your back pop pleasantly.

_Knock Knock Knock_

Kicking the covers from your body, you made a jarring walk towards the door. Sluggish fingers played with the old chain lock. The door was hand carved—grandpa’s handy work.

“Esme,” Lewis chimed. The white fluff of his mustache made her think of shoveled show. He looked cute with his brown overalls and green dress shirt. Atop his head was his usual hat, which had been faded by the sun into a burnt umber shade. Though he wasn’t a farmer, he spent much time in the little garden bed just outside his front door, and so he’d been sporting an even darker cocoa tan since the beginning of the summer season. In his hands was a parcel, all wrapped up and tightly bound with waxed cord. “Oh, I figured I’d woken you up. Sorry about that. Yesterday I spent the evening fishing with Willy and caught myself some catfish. Not fond of the stuff though, and I heard from Elliot you’re a fish lover.”

“That’s sweet of you, Mayor Lewis. Would you accept payment?”

“Oh, no, no! You needn’t worry about that. I’m the one who offered, after all!”

Hands still weak from sleep, you took the wrapped fish from his hands and felt the sturdy weight. Meaty, and still chilled from his fridge, you already felt your stomach grumbling with excitement. Almost instantly you felt a surge of energy flow through you. “Woah, this is a big one. Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

Lewis only laughed heartily before patting the uproar down, “I can’t believe it. You’re just like your grandfather. Always wanting to give back, even for gifts he got on his birthday!” Once he settled down, the Mayor gave a tilt of his hat before turning around. “Well, I leave you to it. You must have lots of seeds to plant. How are the sprinkler systems coming along?”

“Well. Clint told me a thing or two about piping, and with Demetrius paying a bit to set up his research in the cave it’s helping a lot for paying for the extra crops. I guess you could say he’s preordering some specimens.”

“That Demetrius is a bright one. I’ve always found Robin and him to be the creative jewels in Pelican. Well, if you need any extra hands in setting things up just let me know. I’m sure some of the more young and able men would be very willing like they were when you first moved in… from what I heard that lemonade you served them was well worth the labor.”

You giggled at that, waving the older man off with a pleasant hum. In no time he was gone, being escorted by your mutt—a strange mix between some sort of shepherd dog and mastiff. Turning on the faucet in your room, you washed your face of the remaining drowsiness and set off with your morning chores.

It’d been nearly two years since you came here. You’d befriended many, and given you’ve adopted your grandfather’s natural charisma and charm, it didn’t take long for the town to take a definitive liking to you. Receiving gifts wasn’t a rarity. Your pantry was filled with baked goods from Evelyn, the freeze chocked full of last season’s fish from Willy, and the counter sporting free ranged eggs from Marnie and fresh chopped herbs from Jodi’s little garden project that you’d helped her with. In two hours you finished your chores.

You pondered at the clear, naked area across your wide stretch of land just before the newly build greenhouse. That’s where Robin and you decided to put a coop for when you were ready. A sigh seeped from your lips, your hands serving one of the apples from last season to your horse. It whinnied loudly, the snapping of its gums like music to your ears. You felt like a mother feeding their child.

Stuffing your bag with favors and things, you mounted your stallion and took a safe pace down the path, passed the bus stop, and into town. Just before noon was when people began to go about their business. You stopped to Pierre’s, delivering some urgent requests he’d made. At first, he was a bit ashamed to admit that he was indeed reselling your products—you knew you’d seen those pickled radishes before—but you only reassured to him that it was how close-knit communities worked. You made your wages fairly, and likewise did he. Admittedly, you were tempted to up the prices after seeing your things on his shelves…

 _Nah,_ you thought, _don’t need to do something like that._

Many familiar faces, many pleasant morning remarks. As always, the children enjoyed seeing your horse, which you promised to give Jas a ride home when she was done having lessons with Penny. It was just the beginning of fall, and though you were well over ten days early, you’d figured to give a good friend of yours a gift. Pierre had told you that Abigail was up by the mines again, and asked you’d check on her to make sure she wasn’t nosing around in there. With your stallion clattering down the bridge, up the path passed the community center (you were careful to keep your distance, given the forest spirits spooked him), you began to hear the soft, pleasant sound of a flute upstream. The soft music made your horse’s huffing ease, its strong muscles twitching when a few fall leaves grazed against it’s hide.

“Pretty girl with her pretty music,” you teased. Instantly she stopped midway, her look of annoyance instantly becoming one of wonder. “Tanto!” she exclaimed, rushing forward much like an excited child. For a moment, you snickered, earning a scoff from the purple-haired girl. It fell away quick, however, as she touched the soft, felty nose of your steed. “You’re lucky you have a cool horse.”

“Is that the thanks I get for your early birthday present?” you retorted. Abigail raised a brow, but upon seeing the colorful wrapping paper she couldn’t help but bit her lip. It was difficult, but she barely managed to suppress a smirk. “It depends on what it is?” her answer didn’t seem honest. With a smile you tossed it to her, and she caught it greedily and excited.

“…Esme,” she gasped, “Is this amethyst?”

“Yep, mined it last season. Commissioning Clint was… a little weird. Said he only makes things in bar and ingot shapes, but some of my artichoke dip did him the trick.”

“Oh my Yoba it’s a pumpkin,” she exclaimed.

“Yes.”

“A **_purple_** pumpkin?!”

“Yes, yes it is. You’re welcome _grape locks_.”

Despite the nickname she so much detested, the teenager was quick to leaping up and clinging to your torso. Lucky for you, your horse was rather young and fit. “Esme! Why are you so amazing!”

“I don’t really know, but your compliment is greatly appreciated,” you hummed. Fiddling with the chain, she instantly clasped it on. “How does it look?” she asked.

“Like how it did before I wrapped it?” you replied. Abigail rolled her eyes, but her smirk was evident. She was happy, and that’s was enough to make you happy too. “Did you deliver the eggplants to my dad?” she asked. You nodded, “All twelve pounds of them. Didn’t take your dad for the weirdly shaped vegetable type.”

“They sell super well. Thanks. You doing that means I get to have the biggest chocolate cake ever.”

You tilted your head, the look in your eyes incredulous. “Are you telling me all the proceeds go to a singular cake?”

Abigail was always a tease, but ever since meeting you it only made matters worse. Another chuckle from you, this time you were the one stumped. She made a fist in victory. “I’m going to make my way back to town. Maybe run some errands. Want a ride back?”

“Uh, yes, you didn’t even need to ask.”

In second she was mounted, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. As you two rode a nice slow pace down the dirt path, you spoke about home. Abigail’s always been the type to vent her feelings to her friends, and ever since you came into the picture, you’ve sort of been a representative to her parents. You were a generation older: 25 while she was 18. She’d seen you as the older sister she’d always wanted, though, so it was easy to spill the beans to you.

Though, she knew anything serious went back to her parents. Admittedly, she thought that sucked, but she just couldn’t shy away from you. You figured it was your personality. Most people like you here, even Sebastian who was the quiet, mysterious type, and George, who was always too cranky to be happy about thinks he loved. You had dropped Abigail off, told her you’ve been trying to grow a mega pumpkin, and that if it succeeded, she’d be the first to know about it. It was noon now. With Tanto now in the picture, all your daily chores went by five times faster. No, perhaps even ten. All the crab pots were checked. Lobsters, crabs, and crayfish you sold to Willy, though a couple you reserved for yourself and Elliot. Snails and periwinkles you wrapped up and gave to Maru, who had been passing by and offered to take to her father who’d been paying you for. Apparently, his latest research—something that Maru was heavily invested in too—you wouldn’t even begin to understand what. You were very literate, and know a lot about plants and nature, but anything on heavier end of science was too much for you to comprehend.

After spending some extra time in the mines for much needed iron, you had cracked your blade from a bad swing towards a slime. With a bit a pocket change you greeted Marlon and Gil and left your sword for tending. It was a little obstacle you had to pay for, and unexpected, but you figured that’s what adulthood was going to be full of. Taking the road by foot, you led Tanto towards the river to drink, waved at the ever-curious Linus who watched you from the cliff above, and made your way back towards the museum.

“Miss Esme!” the familiar voice of Jas gleefully called out. Penny and you exchanged friendly hellos, Jas keeping a safe distance as you had trained her earlier in the year when you first bought Tanto. Vincent seemed to always be wary ever since the horse had mistaken his hair for autumn hay.

“I’ve got some goods to bring to your aunt, so I’ll be escorting you all the way home, my lady,” you lifted her up with ease, your arms flexing as she shifted comfortably upon the horse. Eyes sparkled, she felt like a princess, and as Penny bided you both goodbye and walked away with Vincent, you tugged Tanto by the reigns and he clopped his way down the bricked path after you.

“Miss Esme, how old is Tanto?”

“About two years, I think.”

Jas sighed, “He’s so pretty and brown, like a brownie.”

“Yeah, too bad he doesn’t smell like it huh?”

“He doesn’t smell all that bad!” she exclaimed, her hands gripping on the horn of the saddle as she swayed with the motions of the mighty steed. Side to side, she smiled at the many faces that greeted her, calling her royal highness. There was a dusty pink blush tickling her cheeks.

“Aunt Marnie’s animals are fun, but not like Tanto.”

“Which are your favorite?” you asked. She thought hard for a few seconds.

“I like the chickens. She’s only had them for a little while, but they’re really cute.”

You hummed, “I’ve been thinking about getting some.”

“You should, and Shane can teach you all about it!” she exclaimed.

Though Jas couldn’t see it, your expression had turned a tad bit sour. It wasn’t like you disliked Shane. On the contrary, you wanted to get to know him. Currently, you thought nothing but neutral about him, and that was solely because of how little of him you knew. Everybody had gotten accustomed to you. Yeah, at first Alex forgot your name, and Emily sort of looked through you when you guys would talk (she did tend to be a bit air headed sometimes) but that what little things. Quirks people had. The first time you’d spoken to Shane was your second week in. He’d been walking his way to work, or from work—you didn’t even know—and gave him a friendly smile. That’s all, since the timing wasn’t the best, but the look he’d given you was off. Nasty, tainted with distrust. Since then, you’d tried to say hi to him a few times, but to no avail. The only time he’d ever spoken to you was to tell you to leave him alone at the saloon. Maybe it was the beer that made you bold into trying and converse with him. Maybe it was the beer that made him act like a huge cut snake.

It’d earn you both a few stares, but you tried not to fret over it. Back in the city, that sort of stuff was normal. People were crude all the time. You should have been used to it.

Only, you weren’t, and that kind of bothered you. Had you not grown tough, not only from the hard conditioning of hate-filled people, but from the labors of your farm? Or were you still that softie on the inside that just couldn’t stand having someone that disliked you? Any other person would have told you to not give a damn and move on passed it, but this was a closely connected little town. Everyone knew everyone. When something, anything, happened to anyone, to spread like a fire. The wildest of fires, actually. To be on everyone’s good side was only natural.

Was that just an excuse you had conjured up?

You spat at the gravel, feeling guilty for zoning out Jas who had been talking about home. It was boring, apparently, with not much to do and no one to play with. Marnie was busy, and Shane was… and then she’d trail off. Shane was complicated, that’s what the little girl’s voice told her, but she couldn’t comprehend that yet. Couldn’t see or understand it. The stars were up in the sky waiting to come on out. Probably five or so in the afternoon, which meant you had to get on home soon and cook yourself some dinner. Being out all day, you didn’t even feel like going to the saloon.

_Shane’s probably going to be there, after all._

Aaaand there it was. You’d caught yourself, bit down hard on your tongue, and with cheeks red like fire you hounded yourself down. No, it had nothing to do with that turd.

_Ouch, that was sort of mean, Esme._

You knew that, but dang nabbit, why did it bother you so darn much? A glance down at your hands and all you saw was hard work. A gander at your shoes and they were muddy and covered in scars and tears. On your hip was the empty holster of where a _sword_ usually was. You were a strong woman. What did it matter if one, single person didn’t like you? It wasn’t like you were the only one.

Jas was springing about, her spirits lifted after the pony ride. Marnie wanted to invite you in, but you politely declined. Not to avoid anything, but because you really were starting to feel starving. A few bundles of your special blend of amaranth were handed to her.

“You are by far the sweetest thing to have ever stepped foot on this town, Esme.”

Marnie always made you blush. She was like a mother sweet as can be, like sugared plum or apple pie, and the air around her never fell short from warm and inviting. From your spot outside you could see the home within. It was large and casting a golden, welcoming glow. Jas’s room was down the hall, which she surprisingly bypassed and beelined straight for the kitchen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in? We’re making a small dinner, but I’d love for you to join us.”

“Oh, that’s alright Marnie. I’ve got lots of fish that I need to start eating soon. Otherwise they’ll spoil.”

Marnie was talking, her back turned for a moment to put the goods into the adjacent room. You smelt the dusty from feed and a tea-like scent; hay bales, more than likely. Within the home you could hear the small feet of Jas bouncing up and down, her words of excitement uneven as she attempted to spoke amid her frantic display. Whoever it was she was talking to was dragging their feet.

“She took me home on her horse! It was so fun!”

“Yeah? That’s pretty cool.”

“Do you want to come out and see? Come see! Maybe you can sit on him!”

“Ahh, nah, I’m not too thrilled about horses. Besides, it’s getting cold outside.”

“Aweee! But Shaaaane!”

And for a split second you both exchanged looks. He was ragged and tired, dragged from his nap with tossed hair and dark bags under his eyes. Though he looked far from welcoming, you couldn’t fight the small smile that formed over your lips. Oddly enough he looked kind of cute, like a dazed hamster waddling about. Shane stared—he stared for a little too long—but you couldn’t tell what his eyes were conveying. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked struck. He must have not been expecting to see you there.

You’d say something to try and ease the awkwardness, but your satchel started getting heavy all over again. Marnie was stocking you with apples and pomegranates. You stuttered, “M-Marnie, it’s okay you don’t have to give me anything. Really.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Gifts are meant for giving, so you might as well start to learn how to take them, hehe!” And that was that. With a bag nearly worth ten pounds, you waved goodbye to the two in the kitchen.

Jas gave you kissy face.

Shane rolled his eyes at you and turned away.

Upon Tanto, you thought hard about today. As always, you felt disappointed about something. The sight of Shane giving you such a mean scoff kept playing on constant repeat. Stomach burning like hot coals, you could feel your belly grumble with hunger, only you didn’t care like you did earlier. You just couldn’t get that dang guy to say hi back to you. Fuming, you felt a seething grumble roll from your downturned lips. “Tanto, what’s with that guy? I’m nice to him, I’m nice to his family. I give them gifts. I even gave him a jar of pickled peppers last year and all he said was _okay_.” Needless to say, the horse didn’t say anything back. You blew your bangs frustratingly from your eyes and crossed your arms, not even bothering to guide your steed back home. He knew the way perfectly on his own. Now, all you could think about was how upset you were with Shane. Honestly, it was starting to become an obsession, but as you groaned on your horse and planted your face frustratingly against his wiry mane, you sifted through your thoughts and decided. Tomorrow was another day. What happened, happened.

Dinner and sleep always fixed a grieving heart.


	2. Birthday Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being around Shane made your old habits come back. You weren't sure why.

**Year 3: Summer 4**

You’d always known the weather down in the rural areas was harsher than back home. Extreme, actually. Since the summer heat came in there’d been storms piling up higher than the leaf piles raked during last fall. Something bitter stuck in the back of your throat—probably because you didn’t even bother to brush your tongue that morning—but your pouch was so heavy and full of tools that the flavor only bothered you for a split second. Not wanting to get your tools rusty, you stored them in the basement for the time being. The crops could water themselves rain or not with the new sprinkler systems finally set, which gave you more time in the morning to socialize.

By now you’d have a small coop of hens and a rooster. That was far too much for you to handle on your own though.

But you had things to get done today, rain or not. For the time being you were stocked up on a plethora of ores, so you needn’t go near the mines for a good while. That didn’t mean you’d let yourself get out of shape. It was a good day for a workout. Stretches, crunches, some weightlifting. If only the dog hadn’t gotten the floors all wet, it would have been easier. You scuttled around with socks, soaking up the puddles and leaving them by the door the dry. A couple hours pass by. The house was in a desperate need of a cleanup, so you hopped to it. The fridge was cleared of anything you couldn’t quite finish in time (nothing was ever wasted since you had a composter now). There was so much food, most of which from gifting. You wondered if you needed to make a trip over to Pierre’s place since it was closed yesterday, but then you remembered the Luau was in a week. There was always some great food there, and the ladies always made everyone bring the leftover potluck. Maybe you didn’t need a trip to the store after all. You could hold off with what you had at the current moment. That was assuming no one’d put something awful in there like the first year she was there: Alex claimed oysters from the beach made a great initiation for the new farmer. A powerful rumble emerged from your stomach and interrupted your train of thought.

Oops, you’d forgotten to eat breakfast.

The Stardrop Saloon always served as the perfect solution to that problem, though, especially when you just weren’t in the mood to fix yourself up something. At the back, Gus was baking up fresh pretzels and house made crackers. A beer with pretzels and cheese dip sounded good right about now. “Seems a little heavy for breakfast,” you pondered allowed, a trait you’d sort of developed ever since you began living out in the farm alone. It didn’t make you feel so crazy. The dog was a good excuse for you to speak out your thoughts. After all, something was listening. Didn’t mean it knew a lick of what you were blabbering about, but still.

A quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall. It was 2:00 in the afternoon.

“Looks like you’re trying to memorize the menu!”

Emily had waltzed in passed you with your knowing. Dazed, you blinked a couple times before giving her a cheeky smile. You ordered a turkey sandwich, and after the order was scribbled and handed to Gus, you decided to make some small talk. “I didn’t know you were coming in early, Emily.”

“Gus needed some help with the leaks. You can’t see them, they’re in back.” Then she went quiet, glancing behind her shoulder to spy on said proprietor as he shifted a few glasses around in one of the clear cabinets. Her whisper was raspy and, admittedly, a little louder than it should have been. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that. He said it might upset some customers.”

The way his ears twitched told you that he probably did hear what she said, but whether he’d do something about it was beyond you. Gus threw you a nice smile and slipped to the back where the kitchen was. Probably to check on if the buckets were full of rainwater. Emily giggled, her blue hair a bit stiff after getting rained on.

“There he goes again.”

“Has he asked Robin for help?” you inquired. Emily nodded.

“Yeah, but working during a storm is pretty dangerous.” A low yawn drew out from her, the woman flopping messily over the counter. You were the only one there, so she took the opportunity and cut the presentability from the picture. “This weather is making me tired, though. I shouldn’t have worn something so soft. Cuddly fabric is a very loving fabric. I always feel like I’m being hugged.”

You laughed, cheeks full of rye bread and tender turkey breast slices, “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

Emily’s eyes were closed, but her smile was big and lazy. “You think? I’ve always believed that if people wore comfier things, they’d be happier… maybe I should make something nice for George’s birthday? It might cheer him up!”

Sipping on your orange juice, you’d almost spat it out at the mention of birthdays. You fumbled with your glass, careful not to drop it over the counter. “Oh, crap, it’s Jas’s birthday today!” You’d grown her some fairy rose’s last year and took the liberty of preserving them for the following year. Time flew—a little too fast—you can’t believe you’d forgotten all about them up until this point. Emily tilted her head, watching you internally panicking on your seat. “Relax Esme, there’s still enough time in the day to deliver them. Just wait until the evening. Penny should be done with her and Vincent, so she’ll be back at Marnie’s by then.” As she wiped up the bits of orange juice you’d spat out—oops, you didn’t even notice you did—she gleamed like a light bulb had gone off in her head. “Speaking of Marnie, I overheard her and Mayor Lewis last night talking about Shane.”

You rose a brow, the mention of his name making you turn tense for just a millisecond. “Is he alright?”

“Don’t know. It was hard to hear them out, but I heard her saying the words _drinking_ and _help_ a lot… he’s been buying a lot of six packs from Gus lately. The guy’s depressed.”

It was a stretch from Emily’s part. A bit uncomfortable with the gossip, you only shrugged and stuck a French fry in your mouth. “Playing detective now I see?”

“Working in the saloon, I hear first-hand of people’s problems. I don’t really need to play detective when they’re saying it right across the room,” Emily explained, but then she began to ponder for a few moments. “… hey, do you think Mayor Lewis and Marnie are dating?”

For a second time, your orange juice splattered across the counter. Emily burst out laughing a little too loud for Gus to ignore. He’s poked his head out, observing you choking on the remnants of your drink as Emily furiously wiped it away, her face tomato red. She struggled to let out a low hush between her quivering lips. “Hahah, you almost got us in trouble!”

“You almost made me pee,” you coughed, Emily’s snickering only growing more devilish.

“I’ll take that as a yes~.”

Coming down from the high, you watched the rain outside before spotting the usual niche between the bar and the jukebox where Shane would dwell in the evenings. You felt a sense of empathy fill the pit of your gut. Suddenly, you’d lost your appetite. “I feel bad for Shane,” you sighed, giving in to the rumors. They weren’t quite as ridiculous as you’d like to take them for. Chances were, they really were true.

Emily’s smile softened, turning sad, but not fully fading. “You know, he wasn’t always like that. When he first moved in with Jas, he was… sad. Not mean, but sad. Like he’d gone through a lot and needed a new start.”

“He moved in with Jas?”

Emily nodded, “Shane is Jas’s godfather. Didn’t you know?”

Wow, you were speechless. It was obvious you didn’t, so Emily just kept on talking. “I don’t really know the details. The family’s kept it secret, but whatever happened was bad. They’re just trying to move on, but I can tell he’s taking it rough. Sort of like a loose rock being tumbled around in the ocean. It can’t find it’s grounding and is always slipping,” she thought, wringing out the washcloth from the orange juice before flipping on the faucet hidden beneath the bar. “Yoba’s good, though. Fate must have something in store for him. Too bad he’s an atheist. I know, I heard him mention it once or twice when he was drinking one night. Maybe he’ll wake up one day and realize that there’s more to life than beer and misery. Maybe someone nice’ll walk in and help him one day.”

Yeah, that sounded nice. Still, it was left in the air, and there wasn’t much either of you could do about it. Emily went on asking about what the mines were like, and if it were hard to find gems. With a nice tip you left Emily and Gus, rushing back home with your hood pulled over your head. It didn’t protect you from the rain, but at least you were waterproof.

The flowers were where you left them. Wrapped nicely in thick sheets of parchment paper, you stuffed them into plastic bags and made sure to give them some breathing room. The water would surely ruin them if you weren’t careful. They weren’t cheap, after all. Slipping them into your leather satchel, you fished into your cabinet for fairy rose honey made from the very same flowers. Another jar of something caught your eye. Trying your best efforts to ignore it, you decided to bring it, too. Heat filled the home when a loud boom of thunder suddenly erupted from outside. Hadn’t you not placed the mystery in the bag, it would have smashed all over the ground. You were that startled.

Great, it was thundering outside, and the windows flashed bright white with the lightning that clashed in the distance. There was nothing you could do to fight against that, so you could only pray your crops were going to be fine in your absence. Nothing was going to stop you from your deliveries.

Dang were you reckless.

Tanto was nice and dry in his shack, and you didn’t want to bother dragging him out of the cozy little stall. You made your way south towards Marnie’s ranch at a nice, brisk pace, mindful of the muddy puddles to not slip and crash.

_Knock Knock Knock_

A cold shiver crawled up your back like prickly spider legs. Though the overhang was directly above you, you could still feel the wind carry the rain smack dab into your back. A few moments later the door creaked open. Marnie’s sparkly eyes widened, her cheeks red, and instantly she reeled you in. “Esme! Oh you poor dear, look at you all wet! You’re shaking like a leaf!”

“H-Hi Marnie. I-I’ve got s-something f-for J… Jas,” your teeth rattled, your stomach quivering madly at how embarrassed you were. It didn’t feel so cold outside until you stepped foot into the nice warm chamber of the home.

She looked at your face, digesting your words, and her expression was a mix of touched and worried. “What a sweetie… here, let me get you a towel.”

“It’s fine, I’ll head out after I give it t-to her.”

But a finger pressed over your lips firmly. There was an aura seeping out of Marnie, her frizzy hair pulled back into a messy bun and her usually dress dusted with stands of loose hay. Though she had a kind look on her face, something about her made you gulp nervously.

 _Uh oh,_ you thought, _motherly instincts…!_

“Stay right here, I’ll be right back.”

And then she was gone, having scuttled down the hallway right before you into her room. Shivering, standing awkwardly, you bit your bottom lip and wondered how long she was going to take. You weren’t sure why you were nervous. You’d been there several times, almost countless. Probably because your clothes weren’t soggily clinging against your form all those times. When you got the feeling of someone staring at you tickling the side of your neck, you glanced over towards the kitchen to see Shane had been sitting on the kitchen table. His eyes were honed to you, eyebrows pinched and mouth open sort of stupidly. There was a bowl of cereal in front of him, which was funny, since it was almost 5 o’clock. A blush burned over your cheeks, your lips pulling into a small smile.

“Hi S-S-S-Shane.”

Crap, you couldn’t help your teeth clattering. The guy didn’t say anything, only stared, though you saying his name made the tips of his ears turn red. You probably made him upset fumbling with his name like that. Instead of acknowledging you, he only went back to his cereal. Munching slowly, he had a dull look to his eyes that accented the grey hanging low beneath his lids. He looked like he didn’t sleep very well. It took every bit of you not to look so obviously sad about that.

“Here we are!” Marnie sang, a faded orange towel and… folded clothes in hand. Questioningly you took them in your arms. “Go on, get into the shower. Warm yourself up, we’ll dry your things in the meantime.”

“B-But I wouldn’t want to i-intrude.”

Again with the finger. You bit your tongue, watching with sheepish eyes as Marnie shook her head slowly. There was a big, sweet, _final_ looking smile on her face. “I insist… it’s right next to Shane’s room. Just beyond the kitchen.”

“Only because you’re r-r-r-really hard to say no t-to,” you joked, bypassing his obvious staring. Little items reminded her of every person residing in the house. The pink stool more than likely was for Jas to reach the sink. Some light perfumes and a brush with stringy coffee brown hair were organized neatly to the side. There was a razer and men’s shaving cream that looked like they’d last seen attention too long ago. Toys of dinosaurs and farm animals scattered the side of the tub. Placing the things aside, you slipped into the shower and took a nice warm bath, mindful to not use any soap. You’d feel too awkward smelling like someone else.

Some sparkly peach scented body wash was sitting by your foot, while there was a bar leaning on the corner of the tub’s edge. The scent of it was surprisingly stronger than the feminine products and filled your nostrils as the steam lifted towards the ceiling. It smelt like Shane. Nice and pleasant, excluding the booze.

There was talking outside the door as you held the clothing before you. At first, you’d thought it was Marnie’s, but then you’d realized that they were men’s clothes. A grey t-shirt and some shorts with the waist elastic. Beyond the white painted oak you heard Jas’s soft voice and her godfather—you still can’t believe finding that little fact out—welcoming her home from school. Again, you blinked at the clothing and hesitantly gave them a whiff.

_Yep, definitely Shane’s._

Was smelling somebody else’s clothes creepy? It wasn’t like you’d broke in just to do it. They were offered to you after all. Though you didn’t want to, you pulled them on and instantly regretted your lack of a bra. Popping the bathroom door open, you saw the steam rush out and felt the air of the home now cold to the touch slip in and up the rather loose shirt. A squeak escaped your lips.

“Who’s here?” Jas asked, her feel tapping over until she was suddenly basking in the bathroom’s light. Long lashes couldn’t hide the glee in her irises. “Esme! You came for my birthday dinner?!”

You froze over, “…well, duh. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, pipsqueak.”

So, **_that_** was why you’d been coaxed into staying. Sheepishly you smiled, giving her a reluctant nod. Little fingers grabbed the edge of the shirt and tugged hard, the towel in your hand furiously trying to dry your hair. The neckline was being stretched down, your cheeks burning red as you struggled to keep yourself decent the moment Shane was back in sight. Marnie gave the little girl’s hand a smack.

“Now, now, Jas! Don’t go pulling people around like they’re goats. You have to learn to be mindful of personal space!”

“But I do it all the time and Esme’s never complained!”

“Did I… just get thrown under the bus?” you asked the little girl, who only batted her eyes in response.

Uh oh, now you felt like you were going to be the one in trouble. The suspicious look in Marnie’s eyes didn’t help you case either. But nevertheless she smiled again, her eyes warm and welcoming and so dang motherly you swore you were about to melt. “That’s because she’s far to kind to make you upset. That’s why you have to start acting like the big girl Shane’s been telling you to be. Okay?”

Jas’s cheeks puffed up big and round like the first puffer fish you’d caught last Summer. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s good. Now help me set the table. It’s your birthday dinner, after all.”

Back and forth she carried plate by plate, one at a time and carefully at that. Shane was scratching his prickly chin, his used bowl pushed to the side as he waited patiently for seconds. Though grumpy, you noticed the way his face changed when he stopped to watch Jas scamper about. Fondly, and the smile on his lips were tiny yet gentle. His hazy grey eyes that were always, always sad, lightened up a bit when the little girl grinned widely back up at him.

_Oh…_

He’d thought no one noticed that, but you did, and when he turned to see you watching rudely his soft demeanor had twisted into something sickening. With the nastiest glare he could muster, Shane’s grey eyes turned almost pitch black. You shifted uncomfortably in the spot that Marnie had planted you on—smack dab next to him. Throat tight, you struggled to swallow the lump stuck in it.

_Why am I here why am I here why am I here._

“Ready to say our prayers?” Marnie sang, and you hadn’t noticed the table was fully set and everybody was seated. Blinking the fog from your eyes, you smiled over at Marnie who was staring at you rather… expectantly. Did she want you to pray? You believed in Yoba, but with Shane’s glare that only you seemed to notice burning through your skin, you couldn’t find the right words to say. But then she motioned for your hand, and as you looked down you saw Shane’s reaching out towards yours expectantly.

You stuttered, “Oh! Sorry.”

Jas took in a deep breath and started to give thanks. Eyes closed, you tried your hardest not to move your fingers. While Marnie was kneading sweetly and lovingly into your palm, Shane’s hand was dead still. They were rough, though not so calloused as perhaps your fingertips might have been, and they were… well, huge. Shane had a huge hand, swallowing up yours effortlessly with a warmth that seemed unmatchable. Hair wet at the tips made a prickly feeling against your ultra-sensitive skin. Curiously you peaked an eye open to see the sweet, precious smile on Jas’s face, the peachy pink shade dusted over her high cheekbones that her now loose purple hair framed. The sight made you smile—she was such a sweet girl, and ever since you’d moved, she’d went from distant and suspicious to affectionate in a heartbeat. At least ever since you gave her the sweet pea that was growing outside your house that first year there. Though you didn’t know why, you turned your attention towards Shane and expected him to have been praying as well, eyes closed and head down.

No, he was staring right back at you, with those blood shot eyes and lips angled down dangerously low. Since no one was looking, he was able to give you the ugliest look you’d ever seen.

 _You don’t belong here,_ that’s what that look said to you.

Another blush, this time one of shame and discomfort. Your eyes shifted to stare at the pretty white plate beneath you. Shane hadn’t stopped staring at you. He knew you knew, and he wasn’t being modest or shy about it. Your forehead beaded with sweat, your eyes wide and shivering. You almost started to shiver, too, if it weren’t for Marnie holding your hand. _Crap, crap, crap, I guess Emily’s right. He is an atheist. Why else would he not be praying?_

Dinner was delicious, your stomach happily full. When the time came, you’d stood up and approached your abandoned bag to fetch it. “Oh! That reminds me. Esme isn’t only here for dinner, Jas~.”

“Really? What else’s going on?” For a second her eyes grew double the size. You didn’t think that was possible. “Is it her birthday too?!”

A laugh rolled from your chest as you placed the wrapped gift before her. At first glance it… didn’t look very nice. Regardless she was curious, and as she carefully began to unwrap it you did everything under your power to ignore the damning glare on Shane’s face. Once the pink petals came into view you heard a squeal of approval. “Fairy roses!”

“Dried up too? They’ll last forever if you’re careful with them! What a wonderful gift,” Marnie exclaimed, her hands clasped together as Jas wrapped her arms tightly around your thin frame. She’d been repeating thank you a million times a minute, your laugh barely contained as you pat her soft hair. “That’s not all. The bees used those same flowers to make this jar of honey. It’s the best around, so make sure you enjoy it to the fullest, okay?”

“Okay!”

Another series of giggles. Really, you should have been happy to see such a glad child on their birthday. Something didn’t feel right though. The air was too thick. Shane was glowering now, his grimace so obvious that you wanted to vomit everything you ate. There was something upsetting him, but you weren’t sure what.

When it was time for the cake, you helped clean up the dishes while Marnie and Shane set it up. Pink, single layered, and covered in red sprinkles, it tasted of strawberries and cream. It was delicious, but thick, and remember what Emily said about the Mayor and Marnie almost made you choke again. The fresh cow milk helped you down it swiftly before anyone could notice.

Darkness filled the night sky like a thick blanket. It was past Jas’s bedtime. Before she was escorted to bed, she’d ran over and placed a kiss over Shane’s cheek. Once more that smile beamed from him: real but sad. Passing by you, she tugged on the shirt and you’d hunched over, your voice making a soft little noise of surprise when she kissed you next. Then, she was gone, bundled into her sheets with the lights out.

Shane glared at you again.

“Thank you so much for staying Esme. It was a real treat for us all to have you over,” Marnie smiled.

 _Not for everyone,_ you though, but you didn’t dare say it out loud. Marnie slipped into Jas’s bedroom to read her a story, the last glint you spotted in her ears being oddly suspicious. She’d given you a peculiar look just now.

What did it mean?

Marnie left you alone with… uh oh, your palms were sweaty. You wanted to vomit last night’s spaghetti, which could never equate to your mother’s legendary recipe. Inside your chest your heart hammered like a hummingbird’s, your eyes darting around the room for something to help jog your memory. To inspire you on what to say or do next. Shane was leaning on the entrance leading towards the kitchen, arms crossed, and body bounded by that ratty Joja Cola brand jacket that gave you huge anxiety just looking at. _Why,_ you thought, _why do I keep blanking out when I’m around him? Why do I clam up? Is he really that scary?_ Nibbling your bottom lip, you were about to ramble an apology into the air, thinking it would fix whatever beef had formed between you. Surprisingly, he’d spoken up first, fully interrupting you.

“Keep them.”

Damn, you must have looked super stunned, because the look he was giving you was incredulous. “Huh?”

“The clothes. Keep them.”

It wasn’t a polite comment, but it wasn’t a rude one either. Just some bland statement he made. It took you a minute to realize that he was talking about _his_ clothes on _you_. Tugging the rim of the shirt, you smiled a little nervously. “Oh, these. No, I couldn’t. They’re yours, after all. My stuff should be a bit drier now, so I’ll change before I leave.”

“Don’t want them. Not after you wore them,” Shane hissed. “And don’t think you’re welcomed here. Just because you went and gave the kid a gift, doesn’t mean everyone’s gonna start drooling over you.”

 _Ouch,_ the horror on your face accidently started showing. “Hey, that’s not what I intended,” you tried to explain, but he didn’t seem willing to hear it. Shane was turning to leave, and you wanted to say something to make things better, but your words were caught in your now sore throat. For some reason you wanted to start crying. _Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong?_

You had an inkling that he was jealous. Not of Jas, that seemed too petty of him, but of that fact that you were able to give her a gift. She seemed so happy to receive something that you otherwise saw as not so special. They were already being displayed in such an obvious spot in her room, and she was so excited for having her first spoonful of fairy rose honey the following morning. Did she not get gifts often?

Could… Shane not afford to get her anything?

You were about to watch him disappear into his room, a helpless look in your eyes, when suddenly you remembered. _…wait, the jar._

“Shane!” you called out, his body noticeably twitching. When he turned, there was a big mason jar of something being held out by you. Arms outstretched; you tried your best to ignore the hammering in your heart. Usually you were more confident than this but being beneath his domineering gaze made your character shrivel up a bit.

“I brought this for you. I dried you some red peppers last year but… I never…” Oh, you were trailing off again. Bad stuff always happened when you trailed off. Especially since the guy in front of you wasn’t the patient type. Swallowing up the fears, you blinked and almost instantly thought back to the day you’d tried talking to him at the bar two years ago.

_Can’t you take a hint? I don’t want to be friends with you…_

A shaky breath came out between your quivering lips. Damn, he must be staring at you like you were crazy, but that didn’t matter. You got the ball rolling before. You could do it again. Opening your eyes, you smiled at him. It felt real and nice and natural, and suddenly you weren’t so scared anymore. Despite that annoyed, impatient look on his face.

“I never got the courage to give it to you, but I made them for you. Please take it.”

Distrust was oozing out of him. For a second, you thought he wasn’t going to take it. Fingers brushed against yours, and when he took it you felt your heart lift a little. Shane’s face twisted into some weird emotion you couldn’t quite put a finger on. “Why are you giving me stuff too? It isn’t my birthday.”

You laughed, “I know. Your birthday is Spring 20. I was growing some red peppers last year and thought of you.” Quickly you swallowed your voice back in. Whatever you said, it was too much, too familiar. Shane, he wasn’t your friend, and you knowing so much about him must have been creepy as hell. The look on his face—one of shock—proved that to you. In a last attempt to preserve your dignity, you gave him a sideways grin and sputtered out, “G’night then.” Instantly you’d slipped on your boots and was out the door, treading over the sticky mud all the way back home. At least it wasn’t raining anymore.

At home, you poured brandy into your tea and sat square on the floor, eyes peeled open in disbelief. Never in your life did you have such a hard time talking to someone. Not ever since high school, and that was years ago. Ever since, you’d grown out of it like some phase. Social clumsiness was supposed to be a thing of the past, yet when it was _him…_ you got a whiff of Shane for a moment and got confused. Looking down, you noticed your outfit and sighed...

Crap, you forgot your clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') Did anyone notice the Eminem reference I sneaked in there? Hahah, idk what's wrong with me either. 
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: Do you guys usually marry any particular character in game? My first ever attempt was with Elliott, but Shane's my usual pick.


	3. Soda Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're always such a busy person. So busy you sometimes make stupid mistakes.

**Year 3: Summer 9-10**

One… two… three… and then twirl.

No wait, wrong.

One… two… and then twirl…and then three… and…

No, wait, that’s wrong again.

Now it was attempt number six. You weren’t certain as to why you’ve already forgotten what Willy taught you, but you weren’t intending on going all the way to the docks just to ask him. A frustrated blush was tainting your cheeks. Honestly, maybe it was best to drop the pride act and take the twenty-minute hike down the mountain towards the beach. Maybe then you’d get stuff done-

“Esme?”

You jumped out of your skin, nearly dropping your bait into the running waters with your feet. Linus had spoken from up the short cliff, his white puffy beard blending in with the clouds above his head. A sense of relief washed over you—not that you thought he was a monster or something—you just tended to be a little easy to startle.

“Good morning, Linus.”

And a good morning it was, that was until you arrived at the mountain river with your tackle box and fishing rod in tow. He had a curious look on his face, eyeing you like the hawk he was. Linus always knew what went down, which was crazy, since he was always to himself. But you did always notice the Wizard and him spend time together during some of the town events in the past. Old friends, you presumed.

“You’ve been struggling for thirty minutes,” he pointed out. Instantly you pouted. All this time watching, and he’d only said something to you now? A blush of embarrassment flooded your cheeks. Linus was a nature man. It was normal for him to be a bit introverted.

“It’s been that long already? Huh,” you trailed off, looking back down at the tackle and hook, the clear string difficult for you to grasp. In the short amount of time you took to contemplate to yourself, Linus was by your side, his hardened hands working wonders with that thin fishing line as if it was second nature to him. You could only stare with utter amazement, “Wow Linus! You must fish a lot.”

“No, I use this stuff to fix my tent sometimes. Back when it haled last year,” he mentioned. Nodding with understanding, you instantly casted your line and granted him a bright, blossoming smile.

“Thank you so much! I’m grateful. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably have just gone home and moped around.”

He didn’t say much of anything, but he didn’t leave either. The two of you sat in a pleasant silence as you reeled in, caught, and casted again and again. The first year you spent here, you’d noticed Linus picking berries during the fall with a tattered wicker basket. Usually when you approached him, he’d come off as distant and untrusting. Like some sort of paranoid squirrel. When night came, you approached his encampment and repaired the basket under the stars by yourself. The next morning, he’d came by and thanked you.

Apparently, Sebastian had went out for a late-night smoke and noticed you. He’d must had told Linus at some point. Yet another occurrence where someone’d been watching you without you knowing. It would have creeped you out hadn’t you trusted everywhere there.

Well, almost everyone.

A couple times Linus had helped you out in return. He’d given you some blackberries one year, which you felt wrong for accepting with how little he had in his repertoire. You preserved them and turned them into jam for him. There were jam stains in his beard for a whole week, which he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he sort of wore the stains proudly. You giggled at the memory, catching a puzzled look from the wilderness man. He smiled gently before turning his attention back towards the waters.

“You can find rainbow trout in the streams if you’re patient enough.”

“I’m wagering that you’re way more patient than me, Linus,” you chimed before glancing back at your dancing bobber. Something was picking at it. At the right time you tugged hard, reeling with all your might. With a final jerk the fish flung through the air, Linus’s arms reaching up instinctively to catch it. A rainbow trout. You gleamed, “Hah! What are the chances?”

“A lovely fish. I’d say nature and you are in harmony,” he complimented. You hummed with delight.

“I’m sure you’re amazing at foraging for meals, but would you like a fish or two? Take it as a gift from me,” you said.

There was a look in Linus’s eyes. Gladly he accepted the prized rainbow trout and a couple smaller carp, mentioning that the next time he’d teach you a thing or two about wild bait. Returning to town, you hoisted the fish over to Pierre’s and entered the store. Pam was in the snack aisle while Elliott was pondering over the sparkling ciders. With a heave you dropped the box on the counter, your arms burning and chest heaving. Pierre’s was shocked, but very pleased, nonetheless. “Just in time for the Luau!”

“Yep, Gus is going to clean your store out for the cooking!” you smiled wide, sweat rolling from your brow.

Elliott laughed whole heartedly, “My, my, Esme. Quite the haul you have there! Such a lovely woman but with the strength of ten men. You’re giving me some inspiration on a novel I’m working on!”

“Why don’t you just marry her, lover boy?” Pam laughed from the other side of the racks, completely out of sight, but not out of the conversation. A smile graced your lips at your long-haired friend.

“That’s farm work for you,” you flexed jokingly. Yes, there was indeed a bicep, but Alex would instantly put you to shame.

Pierre was sifting through the selection of fish you’d just caught, “The ladies are working out today. Are you joining them Esme?” He began to wrap each individually fish with paper.

You shook your head. “Not today, no. Want to finish pickling stuff for the new event by tonight.”

“Alas, the life of a farmer. Honest work is no easy work, as it is the same for a writer such as myself,” Elliott groaned tragically.

Pam scoffed, “You sit on your butt for eight straight hours! Guess that means George is the hardest workin’ of us all!”

A laugh you could not stifle back burst from between your lips. Elliott grumbled, a bit disheartened, but not mad at the slightest. Giving his chest a loving little pat, you set off outside with your newly earned coin and felt the summer sun give your skin a gentle kiss. Fall was around the corner, the air starting to grow a bit cool. Before you could stroll too far down the road leading towards your house, you heard something being harshly whispered from behind.

_“Psst, hey kid!”_

Pam was tailing after you, her movements sneaky but slinking form painfully obvious. Just in front of Harvey’s clinic you paused for her to catch up. With a deep breath she wiped away the sweat from her forehead, the makeup already beginning to ooze off. “Look, I need a favor.”

“Sure Pam, what is it?”

Taking her thick fingers she reached down the neckline of her shirt and fished around where you could only assume was her bra. A satchel was retrieved, some coins jingling inside. As she took your hand, she placed them within the center of your palm. They were warm to the touch, and the sensation gave you a weird tingly feeling in your back. You’d hoped they weren’t dirty.

“Mind runnin’ an errand fer me?” she asked. “Been craving me a Joja Cola, but I was there when that penguin-lookin’ fella walked into Pierre’s with coupons the size of fat chocolate bars. Guy’s shady but tempting, but I don’t feel so good not doin’ Pierre the justice. Can ya blame me though? Only Joja sells Joja Cola.”

Oh, so she wanted you to go do it then? But… wouldn’t that make _you_ look bad? Then again, a soda wasn’t so much money. You weren’t a fan of the corporation—for personal reasons of course—but one teeny tiny little visit wouldn’t hurt. Rounding up your courage, you nodded without giving yourself a moment to second guess yourself. Pam looked happy, telling you that if you’d need her, she’d be in her trailer. The walk wasn’t a long one in the slightest. Yet, you found yourself taking double the time. In the distance, when you saw the corporate entity in all of it’s electric blue and steely glory, you paused in grim silence.

 _Ugh,_ the disgust echoed in your thoughts. You really, _really_ , **_really_** didn’t miss it. Not in the slightest. Stepping inside, you smelt the familiar scent of antifreeze that flooded through the ducts, and the familiar floor cleaner that tainted every inch of the giant room. It was chilly as can be, the frost seeping down to your bones. There was a help desk where the shameful suited man from before wasn’t currently posted, to your left the cashiers, and before you the aisles. Slowly you walked through, skin goose bumping all over from the nippy air. Sam hollered at you for a second before he was shushed by one of his fellow employees. You only chuckled at how silly he was, giving him a chaste wave back, and wandered into the drink aisle. Energy drinks and sports beverages in an array of bright colors would have made any child’s eyes sparkle, but to you they were dull. Lifeless. You remembered these lines, these particular brands and drinks. One in particular made your nose wrinkle: tropical coconut flavor. It was supposed to be coconut, at least, but all it tasted like was sour artificial flavoring.

There it was; the blue can. With a content little noise you snatched the Joja Cola and began to beeline straight for the check out line. Before you could make it there, however, you felt yourself bump straight into somebody hidden behind one of the various marketing displays. The can fell straight from your grasp, the end shooting out with the brown carbonated drink. It propelled around and around, spinning furiously, and amid your panic you reached down with a squeal and grabbed onto the frenzied drink for dear life. Lodging your thumb into the small hole, you finally stopped the overflow of soda.

How… how so much came out in yet it was still half full, you had no clue. Soaked, you looked up with tears almost in your eye, the embarrassment was too much. “I am so, so sorry!” you exclaimed, but then suddenly you were shocked. It was Shane, sporting a work uniform and black unloading gloves, his eyes wide and face sprinkled with sweet froth and that sickening vanilla scented liquid. You’d never noticed it before, but his eyes were brown. Not so dark, but rather a lighter shade. Maybe in between that amber honey glow and hazel, with those flicks of fresh green that mirrored those of the green beans in your usual spring farm set up. Something inside your chest started to hurt. You realized it was your heart, literally skipping a beat. With a gulp your brain completely backfired on you.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and you rose a brow. With his big gloved hands he motioned between the two of you, towards the floor. “You made a huge ass mess for me to clean up.”

The last time you’d seen Shane, you ran high tail away from him in absolute idiocy. All because you’d disclosed too much. Way too much. Now, he probably thought you were a creep. Gulping, you felt the stickiness of the sweet soda already drying on your skin. The drink was rumbling deep beneath your finger.

“I-I’m sorry Shane,” you muttered, stuttered, quivered.

Why was your voice breaking so much? Why did it always have to be around him as of lately? It wasn’t always like this, and he knew. At first, he found it weird, but now it was just getting plain ol’ irritating. With a deep frown and arched brows, he glanced at the floor angrily again. Weird, clonking sounding footsteps were approaching from behind.

“Shane!”

You jumped, watching that stubby, overly dressed manager come from the entrance. He’d posted himself at the front desk once again while you were looking around for the cola. With a perplexed look, Shane stared down at Morris. Shane wasn’t a very tall man, but he was a hair bit more so than the newcomer.

“I told you, when you’re working on displays you need to be mindful of people in the aisles! We want to avoid accidents,” he corrected. It was firm and clean sounding, but deep down you understood. It was nagging. A classic case of a manager nagging to his underling in front of a customer, who was always right. Turning, there was a nice smile overwhelming his face. There was something more bitter about it than Shane’s glares. “I apologize ma’am about this. Sometimes the hats make it difficult for my employees to see. You needn’t pay for that.” There, she noticed Shane roll his eyes.

“No, I’m paying for it. It’s my fault actually. I wasn’t looking forward while I was walking. Even if he did notice me, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it,” you interjected. There, he was surprised for a moment.

Morris said with a tilt of his head, “Are you sure?”

“Of course! Heck, I’ll buy two!” And to further the point, you plucked your finger free and downed the remaining soda in one gulp. It sizzled and burned, bubbling its way down even as it settled in your stomach. You wanted to burp but didn’t want to come off as disgusting. Wiping your mouth clean you smiled brightly, “Now I have to pay for it right?”

A chuckle rumbled from Morris’s mouth, “If you so insist! Shane can help you. Go ahead, both of you. I’ll have Sam clean this up.” With a nervous grin, you eyed the strange man stalk towards the back by the freezers, where Sam would be hounded next to clean up a mess that you’d made. Making a mental note to apologize for it later, you sheepishly followed Shane towards the registers. Boots squeaked beneath his heavy weight, his pants not quite fitting but not loose either. The shirt was tucked in neatly, the black belt holding everything in place. His arms were… well, they were pretty huge. Huge enough to wrap around you two times over, and there was thick black hair coating his forearms. They were a bit paler than his face, probably since he always wore his jacket. Broad shouldered, Shane was a tad bit on the heavier side. Just barely, though. That could only imply to you that he’d only started seriously drinking within the last year or two.

As promised you were rung up for two Joja Colas. Reaching for the gold Pam had given you, you combined it with your own cash and handing it to Shane. For a brief moment you touched the palm of his hand. It was so warm, warmer than your own.

“Didn’t take you as a junk food type,” he commented, which startled you. Shane, making small talk? Now that was something you weren’t used to.

“I’m not,” you laughed awkwardly.

Observing your face, he lets out a gruff noise and scratched his peppered stubble. _Helping people again,_ he thought. The stuff was bagged in the brown paper type and handed to you. Gingerly, you accepted it.

“Do you need a bandage?”

“Huh?” you mumbled dumbly, watching him point towards your bleeding finger. The very one you used to clog the spouting soda. “Oh, I didn’t even notice. Hahah,” you weren’t fretting though. Giving it a suckle, you winced at the sudden sting. It was actually pretty deep. That’s what you got for being careless.

“… didn’t get to thank you for the peppers.”

A genuine smile crossed your face, “Is that a thank you, then?”

“Don’t make it more than it really is. Just saying I appreciated it, even though I don’t get why you did it.”

All the anxieties you had sort of lifted at that point. Yeah, he had a stern expression, but that didn’t change the fact that he still was grateful. That, and you noticed he was blushing just along the corners of his ears. There was a smile on your lips, as bright as the sun, and as you wiped away a plop of soda from his scratchy cheek, he stared straight at your face dumbfounded for a few seconds.

“I’m… actually really relieved to hear that. Thanks Shane!”

_Uhhhhhhhhh._

Was that his brain making that noise? It was his brain, wasn’t it? But it just stopped thinking when you grinned like that, as if you needed to hear that. As if he’d just brighten you already blinding day a whole lot more. Was that even possible? “You make no sense to me. Are you crazy or something?” Shane uttered once he came to. Fingers wrapped around the end of the bag, your wink towards him very cheeky and making his lips part into an expression so baffled, so stupid, that he had to double take at the change he’d given you. Did he give you too much, was that why you were so damn happy? He’d always assumed honest farm work wasn’t worth it’s wages. That you were nearest to the bottom of the income status quo, only being beaten by Linus. And that’s that one guy who _wanted_ to be homeless. He shook his head, dusted himself off, and returned to work. Any more thinking on it and he’d just drown the thought of you out with beer.

The following day you’d found a letter in your mailbox.

_Hey Esme,_

_Once you read this come to my house right away, like seriously. Right away. -Haley_

“Oh boy,” you mumbled, not enjoying the prospect of the possibilities bubbling in your mind. In one hand, she could be needing a good hand to take high shots of her, and since you’re more than willing to climb a tree for just about anyone…

On the other hand, it could be something about helping _improve your looks._ Noting prior that you weren’t in any way ugly, just… hardened. Far from embracing your true femininity. In need of a nice pamper session. Emily had clapped her hands at the opportunity, liking the thought of Haley thinking of others than herself. You hadn’t been a part of a girl’s night (or day) out in some time, so it was a nice change of pace from the hard work. With your sprinklers doing most of the watering, and with little to no animals in your possession as of yet, you set off towards Pelican town. By noon you were knocking on the door to Emily and Haley’s home.

Wind blew up your hair when it flew open, the sight of Haley with a pen and… measuring tap in her hand something you weren’t quite expecting. With slow blinks you attempted to register what you were seeing.

“Oh, hey Haley. What’s up?”

“Come inside!” she nearly yelled, grabbing the front of your overalls and tugging you in with some sort of primal inner strength you’d never expected from a girl sporting a pink jean skirt.

“Welcome, Esme!” Emily called from the other room, the sound of the sewing machine rumbling away in her crafting section. Before you could reply, you were handed magazine after magazine of the latest fashion sensations. A double take, and you noticed it was all swimming suits.

“What with all the fuss?” you laughed, having never seen Haley display such intense energy. Her older sister was leaning on the wall now, arms crossed and eyes twinkling.

“Since the Luau is tomorrow, Haley wanted a new swimsuit, but I’ve been trying to budget our spending-”

“ **NOT** that we _need_ to since—you know—mom and dad are _loaded_ ,” the blond sister interjected. Emily continued after a short not-so-intense stare down.

The older sister brushed her blue hair back. She’d worked up a sweat. “I offered to make her one, and then she came up with this idea of getting you involved too. What do you think?” Emily asked. As you were about to speak—to discourage the idea of you revealing more than just your arms and neck—you squealed at Haley’s cold hands tugging the bands of your overalls off.

“I think it’s a perfect idea! Last week while I was taking photos over by Cindersap, I was ready to go home, right? But I couldn’t stand the smell of Marnie’s cows, so I decided to take the long way and went to her farm. I saw a _rare_ sight. Esme in a crop top. This girl is **_stupidly_** fit, you have no right hiding that beach body in the middle of summer!”

“I was asking _Esme_ what she thought, not _you_ Haley.”

Beach body? No way, that’s not a fact. Yet Haley was speaking as if it were some sort of given thing. The age’s new discovery. To you, it was like a weird divine revelation. Flopping on the couch, the far hipper and more stylish of you three started browsing one of the magazines that she didn’t pile up into your arms. “There’s tons of styles and only a few hours left in the day, so hurry up and pick one!” Something told you that you didn’t get to have a say in this. Questioningly you looked over to Emily, who was only contently humming as she sewed away. Of course, this request wasn’t too much for Haley to ask. The young woman understood how to make any article of clothing well enough that there was few to be burdensome for her skillset. Still, there was an obvious cloud of apprehension hanging low over you.

“Being hot isn’t my forte,” you said hoarsely.

“C’mon, c’mon! It’s going to be fun! The guys are going to drool all over you… not that there’s much selection of men out there.”

“I’ve never been one for attention seeking. The only _goods_ I’m great at showing off is my produce,” you rejected any sort of drooling outside of your own dog’s, and even then, it was gross for you. Despite your desires to be anywhere but there, you sat down on the ground with a magazine in your hand and began to study each and every style. Some, according to Haley, were best for certain types of body shapes, leg lengths, hell. Even breast sizes. You knew that already—after all, you were a city slicker—but that didn’t mean you were professional grade. It was wild for you to think that if both Emily and Haley were to combine, they’d make a pretty incredible clothing company.

“I wonder what all the single guys here are into,” Haley pondered with a finger to her lip. In the midst of your browsing, you pondered with her.

“I see some as appreciative of a maiden’s modesty,” you said, watching the younger woman’s face scrunch up.

With a scoff she tugged her bottom lip in thought, “Psh, maybe one of the dads. Bet you Sam and Alex are the most normal.”

“Is that the hinting of a crush I hear?” you teased. Haley gasped, and then gagged, and then everything in between.

“Oh my god, no. Sam is too rocker, and Alex is _just_ my best friend! How many times do I have to tell you people!”

“Clint is nice,” Emily commented.

“Clint is socially awkward. You still refuse to notice that he has a thing for you,” Haley mused, peaking at a now irritated Emily from behind the cushions. “I can get more of a conversation from a fish than him though, no offense.” A sigh drifted from her lips as she laid back, the magazine over her chest. No matter what way she laid, she always had the appearance of a professional model. “Sebastian’s cute in a mysterious, emo sort of way. Elliott… I hate how his hair’s nicer than mine, but he’s like that dreamy prince feel you know? So many gals dig that. Bet he’s ripped under, not like Alex though. And, is Harvey a dad? Never, ever dad a guy who’s already a dad.”

As you stared blankly at a page, your mind wavering through all the candidates. Were you even looking for love? You weren’t sure, but someone specific popped into your mind. “You forgot about Shane.”

Haley’s eyes lit up like liquid rage, “Eiw! The walking alcohol-scented air freshener? He’s got a pot belly I bet. Plus he’s so hairy!”

“Haley, you don’t know what he’s been through. Shane’s lost a lot, try not to be so shallow,” Emily frowned, now sitting near the two of you, browsing the selection in the hopes of helping encourage you to make a decision.

As the sisters argued amongst each other, you thought back to your little incident in the Joja shopping center. Those pretty eyes looked like they didn’t belong on that lowly looking face. Surely, he’d seen hell and high waters. They were handsome but so, so sad. So much that you had this strong urge to… huh, you weren’t sure what. Hug him? Console him? Bring him more red peppers? Turning the page of your third magazine, you spotted something rather cute. Some outfit you could faintly see yourself in. Maybe the notion of being a fun-loving girl and not some constant hard worker for a day was a nice change. Oddly enough, you were feeling pretty bold. Once holding it up into the air, the battling sisters fell into an absolute silence.

“How about this one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contemplating marrying Elliott in my game too, but I keep wanting to go back to Shane. I love how Elliott speaks though. Hopeless romantic, but self conscious. I definitely resonate with him too hahah. 
> 
> What kind of farm animal would you guys want to raise?


	4. Chutney Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As embarrassed as you were, you wanted to at the very least enjoy the Luau. Maybe talking to Shane would help you loosen up?

**Year 3: Summer 11**

There was a salty tinge in the air that started to make your hair puff up at the roots. Volume Haley called it as she sprung her own locks with her pink-nailed fingertips eagerly. Anything to look good and look good she did. She was sporting a baby blue bikini—one fashioned by Emily—that tied at the front and was strapless. There was a pleated skirt as a bottom to match, rather delicate and schoolgirl looking. Every step gave her a prancing look. Definitely flattering.

As you approached the beach—the sand soft and warm beneath your bare feet—you gave a quick scan over the festivities and instantly began second guessing yourself. There was a knot forming deep within your stomach. Almost instantly you wanted to turn on your heels and return home to change, especially when Leah and Elliott looked up from their spot by his little beach home to see you lollygagging by the northern entrance. Your cheeks were beet red, but as you felt Haley’s hand firmly slap you bare back you gasped, shuttered, and gritted your teeth at the raw sting.

“No way are you running back home to change.”

Did she read minds? Honestly, it felt like that sometimes. Perhaps you were too predictable? Regardless, she didn’t give you much of a choice. With a huff you straightened your back. You were slightly taller than her, though not by much. Arms cusped before you as you held upon a rather large cauliflower—the best from last season—and what Pierre had claimed qualified as gold quality. The first of gold that you’d ever grown. He’d been eager for you to sell it to him, but you had other plans in mind. It was dedicated for the potluck since the day you plucked it from its roots straight from the ground. About as big as half of Vincent, it was proving to be a bit heavier than you’d anticipated. Already were you breaking a sweat. At the very least you felt the nice chill of the breeze.

And then you remembered how revealing you were.

“Woah, nice bikinis ladies! Making me feel a little bit overdressed,” Leah grinned, and it was more playful than teasing. Elliott unfortunately joined in on the small gathering. A part of you began scanning the sea of people for help. Surely Emily, given she’d told Haley countless times to give you a break, but upon spotting her out you noticed she was being distracted by a very flustered Clint.

_Dang nabbit, Clint, can’t you leave her alone for two seconds?_

“You alright Esme? You’re looking kind of pale,” Leah cackled.

“Come now, Esme, do not hide the seamstress’s works any longer! Her art form has always been an interest of mine. Pray show us!”

Even Elliott was begging to get a sneak peek? A gulp of cool saliva rushed down your throat as you closed your eyes and took a deep, slow breath. With a hoist you supported your monstrous cauliflower upon your right shoulder and practically _exposed_ yourself. For starters, it was yellow.

“Oh! You look great!” Leah’s praise actually forced your eyes open. There she was speaking with an overly excited Haley, who took full credit and prize for her transformation on you. Elliott was without words. In fact, he wasn’t looking anymore, a bit flushed on the face and his eyes burning at the glare of the sun. You wanted to ask if he were alright, but Leah had shoved him away and insisted that she needed to fetch him some punch to _lighten up._

You rose a brow, but nearly doubled over when Haley once again gave you a firm smack. This time in your stomach. “Ouch! Easy with the punches, Hales,” you commented, only to earn her bright smile.

“Did you see that? They totally liked our suits.”

“Yes, well, Emily did a great job,” you hummed, dusting off your stomach as Haley’s fingers curled into little tight fists.

“Hmph, even with all this salty air Elliott’s hair always seems to be soft. I swear I’ll find out his secrets… even if I have to get through Leah.”

You chuckled, “Are you seriously competing with a man on whose hair is nicer?” Striking a nerve with her, Haley went to smack your stomach again. This time you were prepared, flexing your abs just in time for her to collide her limp fingers with your firm muscles. In an instant she was regretting it, blowing at the dull ache frantically. You tried everything in your power to hold in your laugh. Instantly you excused yourself, ignoring her friendly yet threatening banters after you. Upon reaching the potluck, you climbed up the small step ladder to see Marnie was posted on top. With two arms she was mixing away at it, breaking a sweat but not nearly half as tired. Motherly eyes glanced up to look at you. Then she smiled.

“Esme, you’ve brought something good today?”

“Yup! My best quality crop coming right up!”

Once it was in view, you couldn’t help but swell under her sparkling gaze. As she handed you the knife, you began to chop away at the sides, allowing the vegetable to crumble away into the soup. It was thick with a warm tone, and the scent was actually rather delectable. Instantly you felt your stomach grumble, but it wasn’t time yet. Not until the Mayor and Governor announced the taste test. “Have you said hello to everyone?” she asked.

“Not yet, I just got here.”

It was then you noticed her staring at you, but not at your eyes like she always did when speaking with you. Instead, she was looking straight at your outfit. Inside your stomach did a knot, then two, and then completely fell. Anxiety was welling up in the back of your tongue, giving your mouth a nasty taste. Great, now you had the anxious burps.

“Shane’s over by the table with the red pepper chutney.”

“Oh yeah?” you mused.

And that’s all she said. _Uhhh... that’s a little weird._ Something about her smile was a bit off, but you tried to not think too hard about it. A wiry smile was on your face—half quizzical, half thankful—before you handed her the knife and dusted your hands off. Once the sand was swallowing your feet again, you turned your head to spot the man in question.

Shane was indeed by the chutney, with his eyes as lazy and disinterested as ever but his jaws working. Chewing away at the red chili, he continued to shovel spoonful after spoonful into his mouth, disregarding the people around him except for the occasional comment from Jas, who darted back and for between the dance floor and him. Fingers still rubbing together, you contemplated going the complete other way and greet everyone else first. Over there, you saw Sebastian leaning against a wooden post with Sam to his left, who was picking at a desert, and Abigail to his right who was sipping on raspberry tea. At the sight of you she waved her arm high over her head, and you were tempted to join. At least until you noticed the way Sebastian’s brow rose high at the sight of you. Sam spotted you as well and announced, “Woah, check out Overalls! Lookin’ good!”

 _Aaaaaand_ now you regretted everything even more.

The nickname didn’t bother you, but as a few other patrons glanced up curiously you instantly turned around and scuttled towards the chutney table, desperate to hide yourself from the more formidable residence of Pelican town. Such as Major Lewis and Doctor Harvey.

Shane felt the spice eating at his tongue. First it would be fiery, and then numbing, and after all the torment he’d just feel the pleasant hum as his tongue enjoyed the flavors. A bit of sweet was tangoing with the bite of garlic and the smooth creaminess of butter. A few times he’d catch the crunch of some pepper seeds that were missed or a piece of diced onion. With a content sigh he swallowed before slipping another spoonful into his mouth. At one point he’d get full, but he wasn’t longing for that. It wasn’t often he could get chutney like this.

“Hey Shane.”

It was you, with your voice a bit cracked but bright and tender, nonetheless. He’d been practicing his stink eye—one dedicated for you and you only—and began to gaze at you with it. The sight of you startled him enough to choke. Your bust was pushed together, each appealingly round and practically on display beneath those triangle cutouts. The little bow between them just drew his eyes there, as much as he tried not to. The sharpness of your collarbone enough to cut a diamond, and there was something oddly appealing about that. He didn’t even get to go below your chest. The burning that was meant only for his esophagus was already flaming up the rim of his lungs. Shane coughed and coughed, the tears he’d been holding back already pouring out over the corners of his eyes. You wore a shocked expression, your hand patting firmly at his back.

Seeing it wasn’t helping, you quickly poured him some punch, unable to contain your laughter as you watched him down the sweet drink greedily. Shane gasped—they really didn’t have chutney this hot in the big city—and his eyes pulled open once again as he finally look at you a second time. Instantly, he regretted it.

Not that what he was seeing was bad. He hated it because it _wasn’t_ bad. At all.

“The heck are you wearing?”

“… a bikini,” you chuckled, your smile lessening but your eyes still sweet as usual. Shit, now he felt dumb. Of course, it was a bikini. What else would it have been? Licking his teeth, he began to regain his composure as the burning slowly started to subside. Without another word, he reached over to dip his cup into the punch bowl and take another swig. As he did so, you glanced up to see Pam awkward scuffling nearby. In her hands was a big bottle of rum that was tilted over, emptying into…

“A-Ah…” you stuttered, the look on Pam’s face like a naughty elf. She grinned, winked, and placed a finger over her wrinkly lips before hiding the bottle deep in her sweat jacket, just in the nick of time too. Gus had turned his attention to her to ask how things were doing.

“This tastes better than I remember,” Shane simply stated, looking into the bottom the cup as if it would hold the answer to his questioning. Little did you know that he was actually trying to distract himself from looking at you.

“Maybe you gave your tongue enough of a break from the chutney,” you commented jokingly, watching as he picked up his bowl to continue and eat.

Shane grunted, “Ain’t even that hot.”

“Really?” you asked, tilting your head quizzically and—crap—it was kind of cute in his opinion. With furrowed brows he glared away, deep into the horizon as you served yourself a little bit to try for yourself. The moment it touched your tongue you let out a whined little squeal, eyes watering and lips puckered with absolute regret. You dropped the bowl upon the table, your hands fanning away at your head as if it would help. Shane watched with total amusement when you took a cup and dunked it into the punch bowl, not even bothering with a ladle. Chasing the spicy soup down with the punch—that you now recalled was spiked—you let out a big gasp of relief.

The sound filling your ears now wasn’t one you’d ever expect. Shane was laughing. Not too loud, but he wasn’t hiding it either. For once, he didn’t look like a moody loner, but rather like a guy who enjoyed the company. The sight of his speckled eyes pinching with humor and his cheeks tickling pink made your chest flutter a bit. Even though your stomach felt like a burning inferno, you chuckled and nudged at his shoulder jokingly. “That funny, huh?”

“Geez, that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week.”

“My butt,” you scoffed.

Shane thought for a moment, “You’re right. All **year**.”

A gasp from you now, “Not ten years? Or a lifetime?”

With a crooked smirk he pointed to the pot of chutney again, “Maybe if you eat the whole pot. Willing to make my lifetime?”

“Please. I can’t even let the stuff sit in my mouth. That’s like hot sauce with onion in it.”

“Didn’t take the hardworking farmer to be a closet wimp,” he simply stated, biting back his smirk now as he continued to eat the chutney by the spoonful casually, intentionally in front of you. As obviously as possible.

At first, you didn’t know what to think. Shane being this friendly with you wasn’t really a common occurrence. You didn’t want to ruin the mode by taking so damn long to think about it, so instead you snickered at him and flicked the pit of bunch away from your stomach that you’d poured on yourself. “Yeah well, I didn’t take you for a practical joker either. Does the bit of discovery make us even?” you asked.

Shane didn’t say anything. He was too busy staring at your stomach. For starters, you were way more fit than him. At first it was admiration: it made him think of when he’d been huge on grid ball. Back then, he was lean and covered with muscle. Not to mention the fact that you had an outie belly button, and though he’d always thought those were weird at first, he’d taken a new perspective when he took on raising Jas. She, too, had one of those, and Shane learned to find them cute.

Yours especially.

_Woah, wait._

Hold up, what did he just think? Shane’s thick eyebrows arched downward so low, so fast, that his face felt heavy. As you glanced up to smile at him, he made sure to turn his gaze as fast as possible. Like hell was he going to get caught staring at you. No way.

The problem was somebody did notice.

Aunt Marnie was smiling over at him a sweet little smile. A prying little smile. A _knowing_ little smile. Suddenly, Shane felt naked. Remembering you were next to him, he looked over at you while you were talking finally to realize that whatever it was you’d been saying, he hadn’t been listening at all.

“So yeah… that’s what happened. Why, does it look bad?” you asked, and the look on your face was evidently self-conscious. Great, now he felt bad for ignoring you. Something told him that his next answer would have been pretty important. Then again, why should he care? It wasn’t like he was looking out for you or anything.

Despite his inward battle, he muttered out a “Huh?”

A soft laugh rumbled from you and he felt his back shiver at the sound. “My bathing suit, does it look nice?” you asked again. Shane swallow his chutney before even swallowing it, and it went down bumpy.

_Well duh._

Nope, no, nah ah. He wasn’t going to tell you that. Lying was never a big deal, anyway, just say something neutral. Nothing mean, just a quick _I don’t know._ Shane opened his mouth to say something, but something small and strong literally shoved against his butt. A flashback of him in grid ball swallowed him whole. The ball was right in front of him, phasing through the air in slow motion. All he had to do was grab it before it hit the ground. Shane reached forward, his fingers brushing the edge. It was smooth, coated in dirt, so damn close. But he didn’t. He missed, only grazing it with his index finger just slightly.

“Ahh!”

Shane blinked, staring down at you as you squealed, turning red all over. Not, not the flushing sort of red. He’d spilt his red chili pepper chutney _all over you._ Your fair skin, your few bits of tanned flesh that’d been exposed to the sun in your farm work, your hair, and all over your brand-new bikini.

It was then Shane remembered Emily small talking with him last night at the Saloon. _I just finished my two latest projects! I can’t wait for you to see them tomorrow, hehe!_ That’s right, the story you’d been telling him was a recollection of the last few days at Emily and Hayley’s house. Shane’s cheeks were red now, embarrassment making him raise his hands towards you, but they only floated there motionless in the air. He felt awful, guilty, but didn’t really know what to do to help. The nice pastel yellow of your bikini was absolutely destroyed, blotched and stained with all sorts of vegetables juices and seasonings. To his right he could see Emily gasping and Hayley tugging at her hairs with contained rage.

“I-I’m sorry Esme, I didn’t mean to-”

But your laughter cut his shaken apology short. Tears were pinched at your lids, but they weren’t ones of sorrow. No, you were oddly overjoyed. “Geez, this stuff even stings my skin! How can you eat this stuff, Shane?”

“…you’re not angry?” he mumbled, obviously confused. You mused at the thought.

“Me? No, I’m taking this as payback.” Shane rose a brow. Payback? You clarified, “For spilling soda on you, remember? Also I took some of your clothes. I guess that means we’re even for both?” you jested. Except it sort of made him feel worse. Before he could say anything in response, he felt the small hands of his niece gripping tightly at his shorts.

“Oops…!”

“Jas!” he exclaimed, glancing down at her with wide eyes. “I told you running on the sand like that was going to make you trip! Apologize to Esme right now!”

“But Shane, you’re the one that threw Miss Evelyn’s chutney at her!”

Drats, why did he have to raise her to be smart mouthed? About to ask her a second time, you only snickered as you patted your flesh down with paper towels. Again, you were smiling bright as the sun. Like back at Joja Mart. “Yeah, Shane, say you’re sorry~!” you said in a singsong voice.

“Yeah, say sorry!” Jas ghosted your words like a soft echo. Except it was your voice ringing in his head, all playful and giggly. Shane’s mouth went dry, his eyes wide and cheeks burning bright rose red. Shit, he couldn’t talk for some reason. Just the sight of you smiling up at him made him want to fall straight on his butt. His legs were shaking, his knees buckling beneath his own weight. Had he been gaining again? Was the small beer belly he’d formed that much heavier than he’d imagined? Mouth opening, no words could come out.

Why not?

“Comin’ through!” the voice of Alex broke his thoughts. You were lifted up over his head with ease, the young man bulldozing between Shane and Jas and beelining for the water with Haley darting close after, her camera in hand.

“Quick, quick, get her into the water before it stains!” Haley yelped.

Alex lets out a staggering laugh, “You got it!”

“Alex, wait! Put me down, put me **_doooown_**!”

And you were, straight into the depths of the cool summer water. As your legs stuck high in the air, the crowd laughing in between their separate banters and the children turning red with joy at the sight of your absolute, total destruction, Shane only stared at you with that dumb look. You were soon back above the water, your hair flinging back as you took in a deep gasp for air. The chutney from your skin was gone, but the splotches upon your bikini were painfully evident like cow spots. The Wizard was glancing over at the commotion from the docks, his head shaking with a disappointment, but his smile barely noticeable beneath his thick whiskers, saying something about _“disrupting the balance of the mermen, but they don’t seem to mind”._ With a loud rebuttal you attempted to charge through the wading water at your violators, but they only fled from the scene with the stupidest of smirks on their faces. It was chaos as you tripped over your own feet before them, despite Abigail’s encouragements for you to _battle your opposers fervently_ , whatever the hell that meant. You were laughing, regardless of how damn ashamed you should have been. But Shane couldn’t quite think about that at the moment. He was too busy being stunned. He’d poured chutney all over that nice swimsuit of yours, yet you didn’t berate or yell at him like he’d expected.

You smiled, and he couldn’t get it out of his dang mind. That and your cute bellybutton. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely going to marry Shane on my Stardew game :')! 
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: If you were a NPC character in the game, what would your "Loved Gifts" be? Mines would be Pumpkin Soup, Sunflowers, Honey, Green Tea, and Salmon.


	5. Shane Exceeds his Own Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having purposely been avoiding you lately, Shane is "coaxed" into inviting you to the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies tonight with Jas. The last month had been rather rough for you, though, so Shane does what is ultimately unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated how I've been breaking for so long from this story! It's definitely the more wholesome of my usual works, so I'm planning on finishing it regardless of how long it takes! Thanks for all the encouragement, your comments have been what made me return to it!

**Year 4: Summer 28**

Every morning he woke up with a terrible taste in his mouth. The slow, gradual pull in sitting up would elicit a burp that _actually_ burned while traveling up his throat. It tasted like last night’s dinner and beer, merging with the raging headache of a hangover that once filled him with regret. But days rolled over into weeks, which evolved into months, until finally he was on his third or so year of being a full-blown alcoholic.

Or was it his fifth?

Damn… he couldn’t remember.

Marnie was already manning the shop, her normal day attire of cranberry reds and rich forest greens clashing against the golden oak backdrop of the foyer. There was an ever-pleasant smile on her face as she spoke to Jas, who was boasting excitedly about something. Shane didn’t know; he was too tired to think and not buzzed enough to care. The dull ache in his cranium always made his mood darken to the point where he just _had_ to drink. It was the only way to get him to brighten up just enough for the young, naïve Jas to not notice that everything wasn’t alright.

“Shane!” announced his goddaughter with a shrill cry too high pitched for the morning. She barreled into the room, wrapping an arm around his thick legs. Those eyes of hers sparkled like the ores lining Clint’s shop.

“Nnn… yeah Jas?” Shane struggled to swallow the gravel in his throat. Never would he be mean to her, but it was getting hard lately. Very hard. Too hard…

Hard enough where he was tempted to just give up.

“You’re coming tonight right?” she asked excitedly, gripping on the elastic of his shorts to the point of nearly pulling them straight off. He gripped the rims desperately—he was too lazy to throw on underwear—and looked down at her in a mix of confusion and illness.

“What’s tonight?”

Jas looked offended, “It’s the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies!”

 _Oh,_ had it already been a whole year? That meant it was Sunday, which meant he didn’t have to work. Scratching the side of his head, his first instinct was to decline. Probably Penny could bring them, that way he could suck on a six pack and pass out before the darkness came to literally haunt the life out of him. From the corner of his eye he could see Marnie’s smile soften, but something was amiss. Clearly, Shane made it obvious to **_adults_** that he was in no interest of spending time with his little goddaughter.

“… yeah,” he muttered defeatedly, though the little one didn’t notice this tone. She only snickered, her energy doubling—if that was even possible—before she beelined for her room. Marnie seemed surprised. As of late, the depressed Shane had been gradually sinking further into a life of total solitude. Rarely did he ever leave his room for anything outside of work, eating, and anything bathroom related. The bar was a necessity for him, which he spent standing in his favorite little corner between the velvet stools and the jukebox that he had a love/hate relationship with. Rubbing her hands together, Marnie turned to face Shane and hummed in thought. Already did he roll his eyes at her—Marnie humming always meant she was going to say something extremely distasteful for him.

“Maybe you should see if Esme’s busy?”

“OH! YEAH!” Jas was about to explode with the idea.

Instantly, Shane’s shoulders slumped. After the Potluck incident last year, Aunt Marnie didn’t try to hide the fact that she was playing the hitch game between him and you. She only wanted what was _best_ for Shane, and according to her _grand_ _logic_ , that was hooking up with a damn farmer. Maybe if Shane cared about romance then he’d contemplate it. If he cared about falling in love, and being a family man, and _not_ disappearing from existence. Playing his ever-infamous bitter expression, Shane had to snap his expression back to normal when Jas scurried from her room back into the foyer, her favorite purple dress wrapped around her tiny, little body. The skirt flowed like a ballerina’s dress, and ever since you had told her that she looked like a jellyfish princess, the youngster rarely ever took it off.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d seen you?

Thanks to Aunt Marnie, Shane did everything in his power to avoid you. And he’d been doing pretty shitty at first. Everywhere he went, you were usually there; and everyone whom he spoke to always seemed to mention you. After the Potluck last year, you were the talk of the town for the guys. Alex and Harvey praised your body, which they saw as formidable since it was like a display of all your hard labor. Meanwhile, Sam went down the classic dog route, and every time Shane bumped into him at work or at the bar, the talk of how cute you were became a regular topic of choice for him. After a while, people took the hint of how absolutely, positively _uninterested_ Shane was on even thinking about your very existence.

He still felt terrible about the whole chutney thing, too.

“I didn’t see her at the Potluck earlier this month,” commented Marnie disappointedly, and as Shane thought about it for a bit, he actually couldn’t recall ever seeing you. Perhaps the shame of your one bathing suit being ruined made you not want to attend. Maybe seeing Shane made your blood boil, so you tried your best to avoid him as well.

 _No_ , thought Shane. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that just wasn’t logical. After that day, you just kept on saying hi to him. Kept on giving him gifts. Kept on treating him like some friend even though he wasn’t.

Meanwhile, Shane was trying to not think about your cute bellybutton.

So, he did what he does best and drank it all away. Drank and drank until the world was a messy fog between blurred lines as the ground seemingly shifted beneath his feet, and he tripped every millisecond. Because why think about cute girls? Every cute girl alive was beyond his league, even if he were interested in moving on from his bloated, self-hating state. Which he absolutely wasn’t.

“Haven’t seen her much at all, actually,” Marnie further contemplated.

“Maybe she moved away. _Maybe she died_ ,” Shane whispered the last part mostly to himself, but Marnie unfortunately didn’t miss it. There was a glare burning at his direction, and almost instantly Shane realized how brutal of a comment that was. But was it not possible? You went to the mines often, and word about town said you’d joined the Adventure Guild last fall. For all he knew, one of the various monsters lurking beneath the crust of the world probably did slay you. You probably could have been being eaten up by some rock crabs and slimes, forgotten and alone.

And he just went and joked about it.

Mood turning darker, Shane muttered a quite apology. That seemed to make Marnie get off a case, but not entirely. With Jas munching on jelly and toast with her small fingers coloring crayon pictures, Shane took a seat beside her and saw that they were sea creatures.

Why _have_ you been so quite lately?

 _Oh no,_ he was starting to worry. He could feel the terribly familiar sensation filling inside of his stomach, pushing away at the void that he so desperately clung onto for some strange reason. “Why not go by and visit, then? I’m sure Jas would enjoy it.” And of course, Jas looked up to Shane hopefully, her cheeks littered with jam stains and crumbs.

_Dammit Aunt Marnie…_

Because as much as he didn’t want to go see you, he just couldn’t say no to that face. Not after all the times he’d disappointed her. In one last attempt to sway the two out of the notion, Shane glanced over to his aunt with his dark, exhausted looking eyes. “What if she’s busy? I doubt she’ll come, and there’s no other reason to bother her.”

There was a look on Marnie’s face, and as she disappeared into her room, Shane already knew that she had the perfect rebuttal against that argument. With a plop she dropped a pile of neatly folded clothes on the counter. They smelt of their usual wash, except there was underlying fragrance that differed from the rest of the household. No, he knew that smell, and after careful contemplation he was able to recall those very clothes being worn by you on Jas’s birthday over a year ago. Shane’s eyes widened.

“We’ve still yet to deliver her clothes! Would you two do the honor?” Marnie asked.

“Yes!” exclaimed Jas excitedly, nearly breaking her crayon in her grip. Anything to see you.

 _Crap,_ Shane thought. _Why do we still even have these…?_

To be perfectly honest, it was his doing. All those times Marnie kept reminding him to return the clothes to you were ignored bitterly. Every other time you’d visited, it had crossed her mind with how busy she always was, and Shane didn’t have the heart to care. Grumbling defeatedly, he wrapped his large hands around the parcel and instantly noted how soft they were. Cottony, much like the color, with brown canvas-like pants meant for working. You probably sweated a ton in these, but with the winter months coming up and with how hot summer could get, you probably really needed them. Shane doubted you had the money to just up and buy whatever outfit you wanted. Instantly, he felt guilty. These were quality clothes meant for working hard, and what did you get in return?

His ragged old shirt and some shorts that could barely fit you.

And that’s how Shane found himself walking up the dirt road, treading the fifteen-minute hike to your farm just around the corner. Jas was clutching at his pointer finger as they walked, and it reminded Shane of when he’d first met her. A newborn baby no bigger than a gridball that perfectly mixed the looks of both her father—his greatest friend in high school—and her mother, who was such a wonderful woman. Almost instantly, Shane felt that dark cloud hanging over him. Nothing but beautiful summer sun surrounded them, but Shane couldn’t see it. Couldn’t feel it. It was cold inside. A mix of memories that collided against each other. Screams and countless nights crying back in the city. Gravestones beneath gloomy, thick clouds colored like pit-fire ashes. The rain drowning his once nice side shave, which had grown a little bit out of proportion as the signs of distress were plastered all over his features. An opportunity at going pro missed, where big league coaches had invited him to audition. Where he’d likely been taken in and playing for the Zuzu City Tunnelers’ defense line by now. But at that time he didn’t care. All he saw were those two names carved on marble, with the flowers clutched in his tight grip and the boom of thunder over his hanging head.

Later that night, he had drowned himself in alcoholic sorrows, and it was the first of many.

“Esme!”

Suddenly, Jas’s grip left him. Shane felt a sense of dreadful emptiness when the young girl went charging from his side, racing down the tilled earth while dodging obvious crops that were beginning to wilt from the drawing fall air and straight into the stone path that wasn’t there before. Your dog quickly accompanied her, barking up a storm with excitement that matched the ball of chaotic energy that beelined right into your sweaty body without a care in the world. Utterly surprised, you laughed, your face flushed red and skin coated in a thick layer of sweat as you wrapped your arms around her frame and lifted her up into the air like a mother would with their child.

Like a loving mother.

Like an _actual_ parent.

Like… like someone who _deserved_ to be there for her.

Shane watched from the south entrance of your farm still, unmoving and what seemed like miles away. A shunned planet watching as you shined like a star, giving live to the world around you. Bleeding out joy. Sober minded and vigilant. Working to get food on the table for your crops and animals before yourself.

Nothing like him.

“… Shane?” you called out, placing the girl down before waving excitedly at him. Why, though? Why be happy to see him? He’d never done anything for you. Never made you feel welcomed or appreciated like everyone else in town. Never even found out what day was your birthday. He didn’t even know where you came from or what you did before this all. It was then that Shane realized that he never really knew who you were, simply because of how much he’d been avoiding you since day one. You were a threat—a danger to his sedimentary life of ugly resentment.

You noticed the awful look on Shane’s face. Like he was there but wasn’t. In mere seconds you were jogging toward him, much to his horror. The sight of you coming for him with that excitement in your eyes made his heart want to explode, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d search for the reason behind you making him feel so self-conscious and too aware of how much he’d let himself go, but he was far too frightened of what he’d discover.

“Hey, I wasn’t expected to see you!” you chimed, nearly toppling over when your dog nudged your butt, but somehow stabilizing as Jas grabbed around your thighs tightly. A giggle slipped from between your upturned lips, and it made Shane’s stomach hurt. Not like the starving or food bug sort of hurt. No, like the _he wanted to vomit because he was so damn nervous_ hurt. Another smile, and as you looked up at him—thank Yoba you were shorter than him—he felt his mind drawing nothing but blanks.

_Uhhhhhhhhhh…_

What did he come here for again?

“We wanted to see if you’d come to see the Moonlight jellies with us!” sang Jas, as if on cue, and Shane wanted so desperately to thank his goddaughter for taking the reigns on this. Because obviously he couldn’t do anything right.

“Oh?” you asked, looking a little distraught. It seemed you were busy. A quick look over, and Shane could see the place seemed a little asunder. Perhaps you were in the middle of something? Remembering the soft plush of fabric beneath his arm, Shane retrieved your clothes and held them out to you.

“Here, you… forgot these,” he muttered, finding it strangely difficult to find his voice when next to you. It was… weird. Concerning. He wasn’t like this before.

_Haven’t seen her in a while. Yeah, that’s it. Just can’t remember what she’s like._

What a load of horseshit. Still, you took the clothes with a baffled expression and assessed them carefully. Like you didn’t recall them at first. “… oh! Wow, I forgot all about these, thanks Shane! … uhm, I’d give you yours back but…”

It was then that Shane noticed what you were wearing. Though the pants were yours, the shirt appeared too big for you. Shane’s old shirt—one of his favorites before—was hanging loosely over your shoulders. At the rim of the neckline he could make out some sort of sports bra beneath. It was coated in dirt and sweat, your hard work evident on it like a master painter’s latest work of art. As the wind blew, he could smell your scent wafting through the air. It wasn’t salty and bitter like that of the boys he used to play gridball with. Not like himself after lifting heavy boxes of grocery supplies from delivery trucks at the back of Joja Mart. No, you actually smelt somewhat nice after working hard outside.

… sweet.

_Why am I creepy?_

Because he was starting to feel creepy. “Come inside,” you commented, making your way to the front of your house with a smile so inviting, so warm, that he wasn’t sure how to turn it down. Not that he could. Jas was already sprinting for your door, her laughter echoing across the open plains that seemed a bit busier than he last remembered. There was a well in the corner of the property, as well as some trees that weren’t quite in season yet. Stalking his way down the stretch of tilled land, the soil felt moist from all the rain the last few days.

Inside, she proved to have a rather nice home. Small—big enough for a couple of people at most—and they’d have to be friendly since they’d literally share the bedroom. A rather nice looking television was in the corner of the room. One that he wasn’t expecting you to own. The kitchen took up the left side of the house, and there was a table with two chairs and a corner for the dog. Some plants and rugs were placed about decoratively. There were paintings likely purchased from the Night Market over the years. On the table was a centerpiece that Shane actually wished he had. Some sort of chicken statue. It looked pretty old and stained with bits of earth that likely couldn’t be scrubbed off. He wondered where she found something like that.

Jas nestled herself on the said table while Shane opted for standing. Your prized lemonade was in their hands—Shane had heard tons about it from Sam—but he never understood the big deal until he drank some.

Wow, that was some good lemonade.

“About tonight… I want to go so bad. Especially with you both but…” and then you trailed off, your eyes staring over at the calendar a little wearily. There were some circles and red marks here and there, as well as budgeting and farming note:

**~~New farmer’s almanac at Pierre’s?~~ nothing new this summer**

**Rotate the crops**

**Budged for new sprinkler system—need more SCARECROWS!**

**!!!Give Demetrius gift when visiting cave for data collection!!!**

**TOO MUCH: HELP or DOWNSIZE**

Huh, he wasn’t sure what that last bit meant.

“Awwwwww, how come?” Jas whined, obviously distraught by this. With your shoulders slumped, you thought for a moment before snapping your fingers.

“Want some pancakes?”

Talk about a detour. The little girl’s head perched up at the sound of that. So, you began to cook, the room filling with the scent of freshly made batter and Marnie’s homemade butter sizzling over your one cast iron skillet. Humming softly to yourself, you began cooking a hearty sized stack of pancakes as Shane leaned against the counter, a new glass of lemonade in hand. Unfortunately, he couldn’t turn down your offering on another glass, as much as he wanted to.

And now… it was an awkward silence. At the very least, Jas didn’t notice. She was kicking her feet that hung in the air, her hands carefully drawing a picture with the coloring set you had stored somewhere. Shane was watching the glass as he tilted it side to side, the yellow liquid shifting to and fro with a gentle clanking sound of ice rattling within. You tried your best not to seem so anxious, but having Shane next to you always made your throat tight. You hadn’t really spoken to him in such a long while, and after what had happened last season…

… you felt so bad for Jas.

If you’d only knew that she was sneaking her way into the room. Shane’s puffy red eyes and wet body, freshly drenched from your watering can that you had in tote—you’d just picked it up from Clint after he fixed it up for you.

_You need to think about your future, Shane!_

_… I won’t be around long enough to need a plan._

Once everything was said and done—far too late to take back—you watched as Shane collapsed on the ground crying, the guilt evident but the sorrow overcoming him too much to do anything about it. Much to his surprise, you sat next to him, your backside soaking up the water from your pail. But you didn’t care, nor did you acknowledge the anxiety welling up in your stomach. In fact, you forgot it was there as you wrapped an arm around his side and laid your head on his shoulder. Not a word came from you, but you were there, sitting with him in an unfamiliar yet tender silence. Surrounded by old food wrappers and empty beer cans, but you didn’t see any of it. And even though this felt like a far stretch from you, you think he didn’t see either of that too. Instead, he only saw you, and when he said your name, your heard something in his voice. A mix of a plea and gratitude, but with… something else mixed in. A feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

_Esme… I…_

After that, Shane seemingly avoided you. Maybe he was embarrassed, or maybe he was mad. Either way, you were never expecting him to show up at your front door with Jas. Especially so soon after the event.

_What do I say? Should I… like… ask him how his day’s been? How’s things lately? What he’s up to? No… that’s stupid. He’ll think I’m prying. Wait—_ **WAIT** _—why am I thinking so hard about this?!_

Amid your inner panic, Shane began to speak. “So,” he grumbled a little awkwardly. “Why aren’t you coming.” That didn’t really sound like a question. He’d read through you though, so you felt obligated to answer. With a sigh you tested the pancake with your spatula, finding it not quite ready to flip yet.

“My farm’s doing horrible this season, and I’m behind,” you explained, fighting to conceal the timidity you were being bombarded with. Shane’s face scrunched up at your words.

Your farm? **Horrible**? Well if that wasn’t a lie, Shane didn’t know what, but as he uttered a scoff of disbelief, he glanced out your windowpane to see that you weren’t lying. The crops were evidently suffering for a while, not just because of the coming change of seasons. Your monthly budget posted on the wall nearby showed your numbers drawing a little too close for comfort on the markers. There weren’t as many preserved jars lining your now larger counter space. Biting his tongue, Shane swallowed whatever crap he was going to say and muttered an apology. “Sorry to hear…”

“It’s fine,” you laughed despite the tight situation. Shane couldn’t help but raise a brow at that. Even when you were stuck in a financial burden, you still appeared to be optimistic. Really, what was with you? Were you even human? But your smile was smaller than usual, and for whatever reason Shane didn’t like that. “To be honest, it’s my fault. I put out too many crops for me to handle on my own. I have no extra cash to pay for temporary farmhands, even Sam would be too pricy for me… heh. So I’ve been working to the bone, missing everything in town to keep this month from going into the negative. Which I’ve done.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Shane inquired.

“Well, now I have to pull everything out and burn or compost it, but…” and then you trailed off, biting your bottom lip anxiously. Shane looked up again, seeing the incredibly huge rows of old, dying plants and seeing just how much work you’d gotten yourself into.

Holy cow, that was a lot of crops to pull out by hand.

Whisking the pan, you tossed the pancake into the air and flipped it successfully. Shane tried his hardest to not look so amazed by it. “You can do that?”

“Huh? Oh, this? Yeah, my grandpa used to, so I taught myself.”

_Oh._

Something about hearing you say that was making his heart squeeze again. For starters, it was sort of neat. He was only a little bit impressed by you. Nothing more than that thought, right?

_… right?_

Sucking the sourness from his tongue, Shane griped tightly at his tall glass of lemonade as Jas sang sweetly to herself on the kitchen table. Surely, she’d be disappointed that you weren’t going to come. That, and you’d be here all night long. With your muscles burning and your head spinning, missing out on the festivities as you worked to the bone.

_Woah, who cares, it isn’t my problem._

Shane thought that line a million times over, letting the silence settling in. You were flipping another stack of pancakes, and at first, Shane thought that you were making way too much food for just a little girl. But suddenly his thoughts came to a screeching halt when you handed him two plates of steaming hot pancakes—one a perfect stack for him, and the other a seemingly child-sized variant.

“Huh?” Shane mumbled dumbly, staring with a puzzled expression as you giggled to yourself. Whenever he did that, you couldn’t help but find him incredibly cute.

“I made you some too, you dope. I hope you’re hungry,” you teased.

Reluctantly, he took them, muttering a choked thank you before placing the plate in front of Jas. She chimed happily, watching as the fresh maple syrup was poured over hers and—damn—why did you have to make pancakes look so _gorgeous_? A bit later, and Shane felt like he was on cloud nine.

_Why are these so good. Why are these so good. Why are these so **good**._

As he ate a little too quickly for his liking alongside Jas, Shane glanced up to notice you staring out to your farm with an unreadable expression. The tips of your fingers were weathered and turning calloused, and your forearms were lined with scratches and bruises. Perhaps from tugging out the nasty weeds that were growing in. Instantly, Shane felt overwhelmingly guilty.

_It isn’t my problem._

He knew.

_I’m supposed to be avoiding her. The only reason why I’m here is because Aunt Marnie made me do this._

He knew that, too.

But then you just had to look down at him and _smile_. The very same smile he saw at the Potluck a year ago. The very same you gave him when he was working that day, and you sprayed soda all over his trousers.

The very same he’d been trying to ignore since you day you first talked to him at the Stardrop Saloon three years ago.

With a gentle hand you graced the small of Jas’s back, looking passed her dark purple locks to see the pretty drawing she made. “Hey, that looks just like the dock!” you exclaimed excitedly. Jas bounced on her seat.

“It is! It’s the three of us tonight, looking at the jellies dancing!” she announced rather proudly. Your eyes turned heavy and apologetic. Shane paused, forgetting how to move his jaws. You looked sad.

There was something annoying wrong about you look sad.

“Hey, Jas, I’m sorry but-”

“I’ll help,” Shane blurted out without thinking, catching you by surprise. The both of you looked at him with bewildered glancing, staring as the man practically began to sweat beneath your gazes. With a brow rose you tilted your head—why did you have to look so cute to him—and flashed a sideways smile.

“Huh?”

“I’ll help,” he repeated, having finished his pancakes. Standing, he removed his beloved jacket, exposing rather large arms and broad shoulders that you weren’t quite expecting. Blinking, you eyed him approach the window with that irritable expression he always wore. For a moment he seemed to be thinking, as if formulating some game plan. “Only a quarter of an acre. Should get it done in four or so hours.”

“Shane, you don’t have to. I’ll feel bad,” you commented, finally connecting the dots.

“If I finish your nightmare project then you can come tonight, right?” he asked, his tone a little too upfront, but you learned to not take the gravely sound in his voice to heart. Slowly you nodded, because honestly, you’d never expect Shane to volunteer for something like this. Especially for you.

But then you started to wonder if you accidentally guilted him into it with the pancakes. As Shane began waltzing out the door like an exhausted man on a mission, you instructed Jas to stay put and handed her the remote before hurriedly pursing him outside into the hot summer sun. Shane had found your gardening tools and was already descending the stairs to your porch when you popped out the front door.

“Shane!”

He stopped and looked up at you, clearly annoyed, but helping, nonetheless. _Oh my Yoba I’m getting so many mixed signals,_ you thought, your heart hammering a million miles per hour. The man waited, and you had to force yourself to remember how to speak.

“At least let me help.”

Shane looked at you, as if assessing you, before grunting. “Just stay with Jas. I don’t want you getting in the way.” That’s… not how he intended it to come out. Trying to ignore the way your shoulders drooped, Shane went out to face your crops and began pillaging them out from their rooted homes. Dirt flew, his cheeks staining in yellow clay and brown earth. Some time passed—perhaps ten or fifteen minutes—and he was pretty sure you and Jas were playing some made-up game until suddenly he saw hands tug at the plant next to him. Surprised, and already breaking a sweat, Shane glanced to the side to see it was you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, brow rose.

You smiled up at him, “If we work together it’ll be faster, right?” With a smile you continued, humming as you tugged mercilessly at the withering crops with your gloved hands. Admittedly, Shane wasn’t expecting that. Not after what had happened. After that evening you stopped by, only to find him a despicable mess on the floor wishing nothing but his miserable life to end. Even after you treated him to kindly—far from judging—he shunned you like you were some nobody. Not a friend at all, because you weren’t a friend, right?

“Besides, I like spending time with you. That’s was friends do, right?” you asked.

The tips of Shane’s ears became alarmingly red. “T-That’s not it, okay? I-I just want to make Jas happy is all!” he couldn’t fight the dreadful stutter to his words. Your smile turned into a grin, your pretty eye winking teasingly as you kept at it, humming that nice tune without another word. Flustered, Shane huffed to himself and kept on working. Not once, however, did he get up and move to a different spot. You both labored together, talking more often than you expecting, and in one occasion he seized his revenge on you for laughing at him by tossing a handful of dirt on your back. Who could blame him for such a girlish scream after finding a dirt roach crawling up his arm? And in the midst of your little battle, you could hear him genuinely chuckling.

As the sound of his laughter made your stomach do literal flips, you found yourself having fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the Moonlight event! 
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: SO Excited to see everyone responding to my question last chapter! It's a thing I always do for my fics, so my next one here is:
> 
> Now that we know you're loved gifts, what are your HATED gifts?  
> Mine would be Pickles, Rabbit's Foot, Joja Cola, and Slime.


	6. Dive of the Moonlight Jellies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fall, and he instinctually catches you. He cannot explain why, and he struggles to reason with himself, but the act feels normal. Like he was meant to do it. And the intimacy of it disturbs him to no end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super late chapter! Haha -cries-

**Year 4: Summer 28**

Something cold touched the back of your neck. Your squeal came through, skin sensitive and jittering in back-to-back waves of cold shivers. Jas snickered, a cube of ice melting between her small fingertips.

“What’d you do that for?” you asked, rubbing the wet patch of your flesh gingerly. The little girl shined with glee, feeling mighty proud of herself for the act as she sipped on the last of her lemonade from the disposable cup.

“You and Shane were outside for so long, so I wanted to cool you off!” she announced. Small feet pranced like a bucking pony along the dirt path. Dust clouded up to her knees and caked on her once pristine socks. The bus stop was in view, old and housing some light moss that would only die come winter.

“That’s what the shower was for, silly,” you chuckled at her enthusiasm.

The sun was almost fully set with bright orange rays casting across a purpling sky over the mountain tops. The ocean scent was around the corner, only a fifteen-to-twenty-minute walk away. Shane was forced to wear the same shirt as when he’d arrived that noon, but you were able to fish out his old basketball shorts that he’d insisted you kept. Though, it felt more like forced, and recalling his dreadfully rude tone during Jas’s birthday party way back when, while he was a mere two feet from you, had you feeling all sorts of strange. Despite this, you felt a distinct swarm of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. The last several hours were of hard labor beneath an intense, blazing sun, with few breaks in between. Yet you’d never seen Shane chuckle so much in your time of knowing him—given he still glowered whenever he got the chance—and when he wasn’t busy stopping himself short of enjoying his time, you’d say he actually didn’t mind being in your company. Rather, he’d ease himself enough for you to feel like you both were actual acquaintances.

 _Friends_ even.

Like normal people.

_How exciting._

Yet you were also skittish deep down. And as if the butterflies weren’t enough, you swore you could also feel invisible spiders crawling up your arms. His voice was burly and deep—not too deep, of course, as Gus’s for example—but enough to make your chest clench whenever you heard it. Just thinking about it, you began to feel that tingling sensation. You remember the ice cube, and realized it was a mirror of that terrible shiver, just without the cold. Fingers reached up to clench your button-down. It was plaid with reds and creams, and Shane had dryly commented on how you looked like you were wearing a shrunken version of dad clothes. For some reason, you threw on shorts. You didn’t have an inkling why. The cool autumn chill was practically upon the valley. It left your knees buckling a bit more under your strange, unexplainable circumstances which only ever occurred when you were with Shane. The same unsureness you’d gotten when forced to introduce yourself to the new class, of your new school, back when your parents had first moved your family to Zuzu city.

Except this was a bit more than usual. Perhaps it was the fact that you both cracked jokes until your minds were spinning from the heat. Maybe it was because he said you looked like a sheep, face blotched with grass stains. Or the sincere, actual, bellowing laugh that came from his chest as he stifled it upon hearing your scream, a dirt roach darting up your petite arm.

Revenge for you laughing at him when he suffered the same fate.

You looked over to him, seeing his steely eyes staring at nothing in particular, and you pondered if they were the palest of blues or the brightest of silvers. He turned, perhaps feeling your spying, and before you even could so much as think, you felt your gaze jerk forward in the hopes of not being caught red-handed.

_Oof, that was close._

Your cheeks burned—you felt like a teenager staring at her crush.

… wait.

Why were you staring at him like that?

Why were _you_ staring at _him_ like **_that_**?

_Oh Yoba… oh no, am I?_

Yeah, you were. Probably. Certainly.

… were you?

You weren’t a fool enough to put yourself into denial for too long. Another glance to the left, secretively, and you studied the rigidness of his face and lazy masculinity of his strides. For a moment, his hand left his sweater pocket to scratch at the short hairs forming over his square jawline. Big hands, strong too. You saw him yank some deep-rooted weeds in one swift motion that would take you literally a minute of exertion to get loose. And all the while, you felt your eyes wanting to linger longer and your heart reeling at the thought of his true colors slipping through those dark cracks. Colors that only Jas and Marnie ever really saw. And you saw it, if not for a short while. A fraction of a moment. You—an outsider—the farmer that triggered him for some reason.

Miss Try-Hard, Lady Tanlines, Calloused Hands.

You didn’t want him to be like that, but it made you feel so special to know regardless.

_I can’t believe it. I actually-_

“Eh?!”

Your body was towering forward suddenly, the dirt ground coming at you fast. No, you were coming at _it._ Before you knew it, Shane had jerked forward at a speed you’d never expected from someone as idle as him. His arms wrapped around your slender waist, pulling you back onto your feet and flush against him. His heat was swallowing you whole, the thrill of what’d just happened making your skin flush all sorts of red. But the moment you glanced up—your head leaning against his shoulder—to see his face staring down at you, you’d noticed only then how close he was.

Shane noticed too.

“You okay?” he mumbled, sounding a little more hardened than usual. Lightning fast he was back at a safe distance. The way his hands grasped at nothing told you that he was nervous.

 _That just happened,_ your mind reeled in desperation to say something.

A blink, two blinks. You finally came to—and feeling stupid when you did. A silly laugh left your lips. It made Shane’s stomach twirl, and he wished he could punch the living daylights out of himself for feeling that way whenever that sound left you. “Yeah, but wow, what a save. You’re like my hero! You took my breath away, literally,” you jested whilst patting your diaphragm, wanting nothing more than to make light of the awkward situation. You were amazing at it, after all.

Shane didn’t feel the same.

What you’d just said set his brain on a rollercoaster of thoughts. _Hero,_ you called him your _hero._ Heroes were all sorts of things he wasn’t: strong, dependable, _handsome, **likeable**_. He started to get depressed as the list went on, but the feeling that seized him the most was absolute confusion. Shane was baffled at your word of choice, and even more so at the way you tucked your arms to your sides and slightly swayed side to side. Like a flustered high schooler in front of her crush.

Crush.

_Yeah, hell no, you’re thinking way too far into this, idiot._

What the hell did it matter anyway? Why was he thinking about this? Shane’s thoughts went raging on, but then he wondered what you tripped over. Below was Jas, who’d stopped dead in her tracks to crouch over the dirty ground. Instantly, his brows furrowed. “Jas, what are you doing? You almost made us fall over.”

She looked up innocently, her eyes blinking in such a strange way. “Why, I had to stop, Shane! There’s a beetle crossing the road!” Confounded, Shane looked down and saw no beetle at all. Had it flown away? But the way his goddaughter said that oozed with suspicion. Plus, she only ever smiled that wide when she was doing something shitty (his choice of words). Not bothering to interrogate her, he reluctantly shrugged it off and reached down to get her back onto her feet.

“Get up, you’re going to get your nice dress all dirty.”

“Okay! C’mon, we’re almost at the docks!” she exclaimed, darting forward with such explosive energy. Shane stared after her with heavy lidded eyes. Damn, he wished he was home drinking beers and falling asleep over some old game he’d finished a thousand times over. A quick glance to you—just to check how far you’d traversed the long trail—and he realized that you were right next to him still. Usually you walked with a purpose, like you were trying to burn calories or something. But there was a drag to your step today. You were tired, very much so, and Shane could see it in every ounce of your being. Yet there you were, pushing on, treading down the uneven terrain despite everything, to spend time with Jas and him.

With Jas.

And _him_.

And there he was _thinking_ again. His knuckles cracked in his pockets at his own wild thoughts. The sound must have been too loud, because you were looking at him now. With a sideways smile you spoke up. “Sorry if I’m going so slow. My body hurts.”

“I didn’t ask,” he grumbled as indifferently as he could possibly muster. You chuckled, nonetheless.

Oh why, why did that sound make him so nauseous?

“Yeah, but it’s good to be honest!”

“Yeah?” asked Shane, the hair on his legs tickling from the breeze that lifted Jas’s dress pleasantly. You skipped forward a few feet, staring at him from over your shoulder with eyes that caught the glimmer of the lamplight posted outside the Stardrop Saloon. Your hair was still wet, fluffing up top but gathered at the ends. The strands whipped around you, a carousel of dark strands lashing around your thin shoulders like a winter cowl. The warm light radiated the high points of your face and chest. There was a button that popped undone on your shirt, low but not too revealing. The man swallowed up his spit until his mouth went dry.

“Yeah! Jas was honest about wanting us to go with her tonight, and you were honest about helping me at the farm to make things work out. If it weren’t for that, then I wouldn’t be here with you right now, right?”

“Err… I guess,” he mumbled, nearly awestruck at the way you smiled like everything was normal and dandy. Your eyes shut gleefully, your body—surely rickety—twirling on its heel. You pirouetted, legs pointed and arms seemingly floating with a feathery lightness. Jas joined in as you spoke to her—he couldn’t quite hear the words, everything had fallen into the sound of rustling leaves. They tugged free from their branches and flew across the darkened path like the pink petals of spring. With a gentle glee you danced down the stone path, all the way to the southern bridge and beyond, until your shoes filled with sand and your breath puffed in small clouds from your lips. In pain you played with Jas. Your muscles cried in agony, screamed for you to sleep it off and rest, much like his mind raged with a headache. Alcohol—he wanted alcohol—it would save him and could even save you from the pain. The agony. The reality that you weren’t all dancers as free and worriless as the now autumn leaves that glided along invisible streams of air.

But you were smiling, twirling on. Treading through the dirt path, the rock walkways, the creaking wooden bride and the uneven sands. Your shoes were gone, left somewhere by Elliott’s cabin, alongside Jas’s old pink slippers. She laughed and laughed with you until there were tears sprinkling along the corners of her eyes.

Had he ever made her laugh like you did?

Had he ever gifted her something that she adored so much as those dried Fairy Roses?

Usually his mind was gone, blanked, and he’d walk on autopilot to let the time pass for Jas’s sake. Yet even as you all found a comfortable spot on the pier, he found himself staring at you. No thought passed him, but there was a feeling. An instinct. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Or, more so, he was too frightened to.

You weren’t anybody.

You weren’t anyone special.

You were just the farmer next door.

Nothing else.

“Would you kids like to send off the torch?” asked Mayor Lewis. The scraggly voice brought Shane to. As the children shook their heads ecstatically, they raced to the end of the port together.

“Jas, don’t trip!” Shane exclaimed, earning a few lighthearted stares that genuinely irritated him. To his surprise, he spotted his aunt at the end of the pier. Bitterly, he bit his tongue. Odd, he thought she said she wasn’t going to be able to come. Something about feeding the animals. She exchanged words with the Mayor—he’d been visiting their farm a lot lately—before bending over to greet Jas.

“She’s so excited,” you said, glancing up at Shane. He merely shrugged.

“She likes this sort of stuff.”

“Do you?” you asked.

Shane stared down at you with bloodshot eyes, “You tell me.”

As the two of you walked down, you thought with a finger pressed innocently upon your lips. Then, you smirked. “I’d say you do, but you don’t want to admit it.”

“Nope,” he said dryly, earning him your sweet chuckle. His headache worsened at the sound. How long until you showed your true colors? Until you snapped at him like a **normal** person? He wanted to take a face dive into the water to cool off. Too bad there were witnesses. If he were any madder, he’d might have thrown you in and ditched you.

You could swim, right?

“Aunt Marnie, Esme came! Shane helped her with her farm for soooo long, and she was able to come!” Jas’s voice announced with furious excitement. Vincent watched Lewis hold his lighter out to the torch with fascination, Jas too enthralled with telling her recount of the day. Aunt Marnie winked at her.

“I can see that. Did you do what we discussed?” she asked slyly. The little girl giggled.

“Yup!”

Marnie poked her nose, “Clever little girl! Let’s see what happens next.”

“Okay!”

A part of Shane wished he didn’t hear that. Another part of him hoped you didn’t. Luckily, Willy had started speaking to you the moment you both reached the end of the pier. Something about the migration of the jellies and temperature changes. Daringly, the alcoholic approached his aunt.

“When what happens next?” he asked, but Marnie only laughed innocently.

“Oh nothing, just girl things.”

That sounded like bullshit to him. Eyes narrowing, he watched as Marnie walked off to meet with Lewis, and Shane wondered why she was so damn close to the old fart. “Jas, we’re about to send off the torch!” he called, and the girl darts from your side to the edge of the pier. Candles floated upon the waters. They were bright but did not yield enough light to attract the spectacles. As the brightest of them all drifted out into the dark waters, it distanced like a star drifting out of sight. Away it went, the dark ocean like spilt ink illuminating with a soft blue glow. It grew, expanding, a glow so ethereal that you couldn’t help but let out a soft breath. As the cluster of marine life slowly came towards shore, Shane looked down at you with curiosity.

“You’re acting like you’d never seen this before,” he commented.

You blinked up at him, “I haven’t.”

What?

For four years you’d lived there but never once came to see the moonlight jellies? Had you never been invited? A small hand grasped tightly around yours. Jas pointed out into the waters just when the forms turned distinguishable. “Look Esme, you can see them! They came!”

“Wow, they look like they’re flying!”

“They’re so pretty!”

“They are!”

And then you both were on your knees, peering over the docks like two children that had discovered an incredible secret. The sight of how well you two mingled—how willing you were to bend over after doing so for countless hours—made Shane’s mind turn hazy. On your fingers were bandages and bruises. A few cuts littered your soft skin, and your aching knees were painfully pressed over the aged, rotting wood. Shane began to wonder why he came in the first place. While everyone—literally everyone—was distracted, he figured he could slip away into the night and return home. Grow idle in him room and turn sour until the night meshed into morning and the morning dragged him out of bed and to work hungover. Dry lips were caught between his teeth. He was thirsty—oh so thirsty—and he felt himself feeling it again.

Self-pity for being so depressed.

Anger for letting himself get to the point of no return.

Envy that you were serving the role meant for him, and better.

 _Whatever_ , he thought. _They won’t even notice I’m gone._

Yet as he made his first move in retreating, he felt fingers latch against his own. The man stumbled, though he somehow found a way to gracefully fall down upon his knees. No one seemed to notice, and he was grateful enough until his eyes locked onto the perpetrator. Jas held his hand now, pointing forward at jellyfish after jellyfish, commenting on each one’s uniqueness. Differences that he honestly couldn’t notice even if his life depended on it. There you kneeled next to them, smiling out to the waters before turning to look at him, and upon seeing his flustered stare, you smiled. Eyes shut, cheeks rosy, lips fluttering with a delightful laugh; that sort of smile.

“I want to see if we can find a green one!” Jas chimed.

“A green one?” you asked.

Vincent plopped down next to you. “It’s the rarest color!” Determined eyes stared down at his friend. “I’m going to find it first!” he challenged Jas.

A gasp of shock escaped her, “Me and Shane will!”

“Uhhh…”

Shane cringed at his outward display of confusion. Honestly, all the colors looked the same right now. That hangover was still there, only weaker than usual, and everything was merging into a mess like some abused watercolor canvas.

“Nuh uh,” Vincent insisted, already skimming his peepers across the waters below him.

“Uh huh! Shane used to play sports so he has an eye for detail!” Jas insisted, and instantly he wanted to shove her in the water too. The moment you looked up at him, he felt that disgusting wave of embarrassment whiplash him across the face.

“You used to play sports?” you asked with sincere interest.

His rough voice croaked an answer that he himself struggled to decipher. Meanwhile, he could feel the gaze of Aunt Marnie burning the back of his head. Damn, he would have glared at her if it wasn’t so obvious. “Used to.”

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to play a sport, but I was worried I’d suck at it,” you laughed.

You laughed when you were supposed to be disgusted. Because Shane didn’t fit the sports profile anymore—not like Sam or Alex anyway. If being a couch potato was a sport, he’d have the Zuzu gold medal for it. He’d consider your fascination to be an insult in disguise, but your attention was seized from him when a loud creaking echoed further down the pier. Vincent had taken more ground for the sake of winning the silly challenge, his body leaning out further than he should have. Beneath him, the old boards were shifting from failing, rusted nails.

“Vincent,” you called out with concern, “back up buddy, you might fall in!”

“Miss Esme, Jas, I found a green one! I won, I won!”

**_POP_ **

“… uh oh.”

Splinters rained down as the plank busted beneath him. Shane was too far—he couldn’t do something even if he wanted to. In all fours you darted out, your arms long enough to snatch the boy by his shirt and throw him back onto the dock just before he went knee deep. Wood scraped his calves in the process. Emily was quick to his side, practically catching him in her lap as they fell over. He let out a sharp cry from the stinging pain, but it was soothed from a splash of cold water. Shane watched as you lost balance and plunged, ungracefully at that, into the vibrant waters.

“Is everything okay over there?” called someone from the opposite pier.

“It’s Esme,” Emily cried. “She fell in the water!”

“Oh no!”

“Someone, pull her out before she gets stung!”

Another splash. Jas shielded herself from the spray of briny water as her godfather leapt in after her. Everyone close enough watched as Shane hoisted you up and back into the docks, your body shivering from the cold. In the interaction—in that short moment of pumping adrenaline—he looked into your eyes and saw the thrill shining deep in your irises. You looked breathless, and that did something to him. A few seconds later, and Shane felt pain. He lets out a hoarse yelp, his arms gripping the pier in desperation. “Shane!” you called, grabbing him by the wet fabric of his hoodie and pulling with all your might. Soon both Emily and Willy were by your side, hoisting up the heavy man until his body landed upon the wood with a disgraceful slosh. He turned, staring up at the stary night sky, and didn’t even both to shiver.

What… the hell just happened?

“Shane? Speak to me, Shane!”

“Shane, are you alright!”

“Shane!”

He had zoned out at first. Half from the cold, half from the searing pain on his leg. Seizing the flesh of his calf, he squeezed around the tender area and let out a seething, shaken breath. Muscles tensed, almost spasmed, from the burning that was eating up his muscles. Another jitter of his name. He’d recognized it was your shaken voice as you sat beside him, dripping endlessly with water that pooled around the both of you. You touched his bicep, holding it tightly in an attempt to situate him, and he instinctually wanted to shove you away. Mindlessly did he comply until his head was leaning against some part of your body. He wasn’t sure, he was in a lot of pain to notice or care right now.

Cries nearby almost deafened him. Jodi and Sam were near the wallowing Vincent now, the young boy clinging to his mother’s leg as he repeated apology after apology. “What were you doing?! You could have gotten hurt way worse than this!” Sam reprimanded while assessing his wounds with Maru.

Confusingly he stared at the exchange. The sounds of footsteps closed in. He could feel the beating of their feet from the wobbly floorboards beneath him. Shane swallowed tightly, feeling the soft touch of your fingers against his cheek. There, he felt you motioning his head up, and then he was looking straight at you. “Hey, calm down,” you said with a voice so calm and soft. There was a ringing in his ears. It was then he realized that he was panicking. Eyes darted here and there before locking onto you. You looked concerned, shivering in the cold. Nearby he could see his aunt, saying something he couldn’t quite hear all too well. Her hands were over her mouth. She was bent over like a grieving mother.

“What happened?” Shane could make out Doctor Harvey’s voice.

“His leg is swelling up,” you answered shakily.

“The Lunaloos administered a potent venom. He must be treated immediately.”

The hell, was that the wizard’s? Since when did he show up?

Breathing hitched, Shane stared up at the sky, your hair cascading down and touching against his forehead gently. Everything was going dark, but you were warm. It was comforting enough to almost put him to sleep despite the pain. Little hands were touching his despite what sounded like Marnie telling them to stop. Probably Jas, he figured. Maybe he should pass out while he had the chance? It would make him stop feeling the pain, so potent that he forgot he had a migraine.

“Up we go Shane.”

The pain grew. More than he could ever imagine.

_Ooooowwwww, **ow** , **ow** , **ow!**_

You’d pulled him up to his feet, the man unable to bear weight on the injured calf. Looking down, he could barely make out red burns running down his left leg like caterpillar trails. Nausea swirled within him, a sickening brew threatening to exit. Last night’s beer and pizza poppers were about to come up his nose as they started walking. The crowd had formed, the eyes of many people who gossiped about how much they hated him staring on with… concern.

Weird, he didn’t think everyone would ever be worried about him of all people.

The sand was difficult to maneuver on, and the rickety bridge didn’t make anything better. Shane turned his head to look at you, spotting afterimages of your blurry face. “My leg…” he hissed, almost stumbling, and it took everything in you to help stabilize him. On your face was a comforting expression. Despite it, he was certain you were in pain and panicking.

“We’re almost there, Doc and I are taking you to the clinic.”

“The…”

That confounded him, but then he felt Harvey on his opposite side, supporting him on the short yet seemingly endless journey. Just the thought of being carried by anyone made him want to pass out. It just had to be the town doctor that he’d been avoiding for the last two years.

Great, so much for dodging the weight scale.

Although Shane figured that was the last thing on Harvey’s mind.

After, his consciousness came and went. Above the bed a clock hanged, ticking away the seconds that he felt were wasted. Seconds he wished never existed. Usually, that’s how he felt, but as Shane awoken for perhaps the fourth time that night, he realized he’d felt more awake than the previous. Able to hold onto his consciousness, he groggily turned his head to realize he was on one of the medical cots in Harvey’s clinic. That, and he wasn’t alone. You were there, leaning against your fist in a new set of clothes that seemed bigger than you. Shane recognized dozing off with the way your neck was wrung to the side. With a gulp, he felt his dry throat close up from the uncomfortable circumstances and struggled to sit up. The bed creaked beneath his weight, luring you from your slumber to see him shifting rigidly beneath the sheets.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder. The man paused stiffly from the contact. “Relax Shane. Doc says you gotta stay the night. You’ll be free in the morning.”

Shane stared, feeling remotely better—from the lack of pain—but also worse from the sickening fluttering in his stomach.

“… why are you here?”

With a deep breath you rubbed your eyes and leaned back against the creaky chair. A small smile graced your lips. “Harvey wanted to check on me too… you fished me out before I could get stung.”

Get stung… oh, that explained the immeasurable pain. It was then he felt the flame that still kindled in the muscles of his leg. “Shit… this hurts a ton,” he wheezed, gripping at the bedrails like his life depended on it.

“You’re lucky Rasmodius had an antivenom, otherwise you’d been rushed to one of the hospitals in the city.”

Shane rose a brow, “The wizard?”

You nodded, “He’d given it to Harvey to administer. He was a little questionable about it at first, but the moment it entered your system your body stopped shaking…” and then you trailed off, your fingers twiddling over your lap. Shane huffed, head falling back on the pillow, and he stared with busy thoughts at the plain, white ceiling.

Miserably, he groveled at his state. “Why does crap like this always happen to me?” But it wasn’t like he was asking anyway. Rather, it was an open-ended question. Somehow you understood that, and he was grateful. The least he needed was some cruddy life advice. You shifted in your seat, fumbling with the renewed bandages on your fingers until the adhesive strips lost their hold. Cuts were revealed, shallow and miniscule compared to the barbs and burns on his leg.

“Hey,” you mumbled guiltily. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t of fallen in like some idiot-”

“It was the stupid kid’s fault,” he responded bluntly, enough to make your skin jerk. Only seconds later, he felt guilty for his words. Just a little bit. “How is he anyway?”

“Vincent’s fine. I scraped him up a bit trying to fish him out, though, so he’s got some serious bandages.”

A scoff tickled your ears. Shane shifted beneath the covers, attempting to turn away, but the biting pain stopped him. He shivered, freezing for a second to let the ache die down. “I’d take scrapes over being stung by those things any day. Brat’s lucky,” he admitted. His eyes glanced over you, almost sizing you up, and he paused at your bear feet. They were wrapped up in gauze and looked a little swollen.

“Where are your shoes?”

Humming, you shuffled them a bit on the cool tiles. “I forgot them at the beach. Was too caught up helping you.” Great, now he felt guilty. He must have been pouting, because you suddenly chuckled. “Oh, also be prepared. Jas is so worried. She’s probably going to tackle you when you get home in the morning.” Upon hearing that, he groaned softly. He doubted he could handle her barreling into him after today.

“Why me…”

“Because they love you. We all do.”

An incredulous stare spread across his face—that dumb look of his always made you giggle—and you stifled your unwarranted laugh. But he didn’t understand your words. His mind would let him. He couldn’t. Hearing them, and seeing the state you were in, sent Shane into an even deeper sense of resentment. He hated himself. Hated that he got guilted into going to see you. Hated that he helped you with your farm. Hated that he took you to see the jellies. And he hated most how much you’ve done for him.

Then, now, and everything else in between. All because you were _nice_. Because you wanted him to be your _friend_.

Love?

How could anyone love him.

Why would _you_ love him? As if he were a somebody? It was all just a blatant lie to his face, and if he weren’t in someone else’s house, he’d scream at you to scram. To get lost and never come back. The silence he craved was replaced by his sickening vortex of a mind. Meanwhile, you were studying the ever-growing glare on his face and gulped. The man looked miserable, embarrassed even, and you contemplated if you’d angered him somehow. So, you stood and patted yourself down. Only then did he notice the bag of your wet clothes nearby, now held slump by your side.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts. Unless you’d prefer my company?”

“Just go home. Don’t you have farmer crap to do?” he remarked, the bite to his tone having softened from both the exhaustion and the medication. The smile on your face was small but real. He could see the redness in your eyes as your rubbed them.

“Heh, yeah, I think I’m going to take a day off for once…”

Yeah, and he was going to have to call out of work knowing Harvey. That is, if he and Marnie hadn’t done that yet. You looked like you were about to leave, turning on your heel with total reluctance. “You know, you must think I’m such a loser,” you suddenly spoke. Shane’s mind struggled with what you said. _Huh?_ That is until you came up to him one last time for the night. You’d bent over, your lips pressing gently upon his aching temple. The touch was so soft—not rough and chapped like his own. Something inside him short circuited. Shane turned stiff. His mouth slacked open from the unexpected act.

_Uhhhhhhhhhhh…_

That was _his_ brain, wasn’t it? The buzzing only kept going until he saw your face. There was a dusty pinkness across your cheeks. Then, his mind went completely silent.

“Thank you, Shane, for saving me again.”

_I…_

Brain not functioning, he merely watched as you turned and made your leave. The door opened and swung shut behind you. He could hear the front entrance close down the hall. He was alone in the dimly lit room, the monitors next to him beeping softly. The sensation of your kiss echoed in his mind with the words you spoke. Words that he felt he needed to decipher. Like there was a hidden message, or implication, within them.

_I…_

He what?

His hands were immobile at his sides. They’ve done things he’d never imagined they’d do that day. All he could think was what had gotten into him? Without even knowing it, he’d reached up to touch his head. Remnant moisture that should have disgusted him only left him feeling strange, dumfounded. Everything but disgusted. But, ironically, also disturbed. Love…

You didn’t _love_ him.

You were nothing _special_.

You were a farmer, the lone farmer, who lived north of cindersap forest.

He didn’t know you, you didn’t know him, and he was willing to keep it that way.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

Shane repeated it in his head all throughout the night until he fell asleep. At one point his mind betrayed him, just for a hair of a moment, when he recalled the thrill in your eyes when he’d caught you again, and then again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to do a switch playthough while consoles still have the item multiplier exploit haha! Now if only I could stop marrying Shane to give someone else a chance v,v.
> 
> QOTC: What's your favorite farm map, one that you (if you were the farmer) would live on? If I were in the world, I'd see myself living in the forager map since I love nature and trees so much!


End file.
